


Descent

by NoCommentHere



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Ambiguous AU, BDSM, Blowjobs, Kinks, M/M, Masochism, Pain, Profanity, Spanking, Strangling, Tying, Unhealthy Behavior, Violence, and childhood history, definitely, high school setting, pinning, sado-maso, slight stockholm syndrome, they will be savages, they're despicable, violation of moral codes, will have some angst too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:49:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3476837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoCommentHere/pseuds/NoCommentHere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. And there was the day when Ralph discovered he was a masochist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grudge

The clock's lines moved slower than ever, its sounds reverberating in the room, making the fair boy's skin crawl with anticipation for the end of the class. He looked to his right, at the plump, bespectacled boy, who was still taking notes in a frenzy, and the blond almost wanted to laugh at his dedication. Then to his left, at a short, dark-haired boy, who was drawing on a piece of paper from his notebook, and he exhaled in relief when he saw he wasn't the only one fed up with Mathematics class.

Ralph was a good student, an almost excellent one, if one asked his peers or his family, but even the fair boy had trouble keeping up with the schedule, sometimes. He was tired, tired enough not to pay attention to what was going on during the lesson and Maths was one of his less strong points, so he dozed off unwillingly. Just as he was about to yawn and severely tried to abstain himself from doing it, the elderly man that was assigned as their teacher for the semester attracted his attention – and the rest of the class'- and criticized him for not being a proper student.

The fair boy wanted to fume, especially when he heard Merridew and Black laugh out loudly at him from the back of the class, but he retaliated with a vengeful smile when the teacher focused his attention on the two obnoxious boys, and offered them the same treatment for being too loud.

As Ralph discretely turned his head and gave Merridew a superior smile, the redhead glared daggers at him, icy blue eyes piercing Ralph, and the fair boy almost wiped the smile off of his face at the vicious display, but he forced himself to hold the angry boy's stare. He admitted he was intimidated a lot by Merridew, but that didn't make him let his guard down, in fact, it determined Ralph to try to be just as fierce and face his fears and his weaknesses.

It hadn't always been like this. For the first half of year of school, Ralph had actually been pretty good mates with Jack Merridew. He had been the first boy Ralph had talked to, when first being put in school, at six years old, and they got along quite well, shared the same humor – for two six years old boys- and Jack had even moved in the desk next to him, so that they could be with each other most of the time. In spite of this, the ginger talked a lot to a dark, short boy on the other side of him as well, and spent another great part of his time with him, often making Ralph feel left out and lonely.

It got even worse after a while, when Jack barely hung out with the fair boy anymore and always played with Roger, the two boys indulging themselves in activities that Ralph didn't really agree with; violent and even scary ones, like torturing animals or bullying younger children. Ralph felt torn apart, because all of those somehow made him glad he didn't hang out with Jack anymore, but also downhearted, because he missed Jack and his jokes, and how Jack sometimes took his hand and held it and smiled at him, things that Ralph had noticed that he wasn't doing with the black-haired Roger boy. Jack's treatments of him and Roger were different, with him, the redhead was softer and more tender, while with Roger, Jack turned into someone violent and vicious, someone Ralph didn't like at all.

Ralph concluded that it was better that he didn't hang out with Jack after some time, because he might have become like him, and Ralph didn't want that, so he started getting closer to other boys in his class. Like the chubby boy called Peter, whom the other kids - particularly Jack and Roger and he, until then, to Ralph's regret- always made fun of and called 'Piggy', because he had weight problems, and made fun of his other weaknesses too, like his asthma. But Ralph discovered Peter was a nice lad and a good friend. Then he befriended the short, dark-haired boy called Simon, who was somehow an airhead and often daydreamed, but Ralph liked him as well, because he was one of the best people he had ever met and he wanted to spend time in the company of this kind of people. He wanted to be friends with people like Peter and Simon, he wanted to be like them and not violent, like Jack and Roger had become.

Everything went well with Peter and Simon, and Ralph was thankful and happy when he played with them, until one day, after almost half of year, when the fair boy suddenly found himself cornered on the school's halls by a bigger figure. As he looked up, he saw the messy, rusty curls and a menacing expression that was fiercely aimed at him.

"What do you think you're doing," Jack snapped at him and the blonde boy looked at him with wide eyes, full of surprise and confusion.

"What are you talking about, Jack? I don't under-"

"Don't play with me!" The other boy yelled, punching the locker next to Ralph's head and the blond jumped alarmed. "You're hanging out with Piggy and that batty kid. You're not allowed to hang out with them. _You're my friend._ "

A sudden anger boiled inside the fair boy and he furrowed his brow, before he tried to push Jack away, but it was to no avail, because he barely budged.

"We are not friends anymore." Ralph retorted furiously, ducking and trying to escape under Jack's arm, but the other boy grabbed the upper part of his arm with a bruising force and dragged Ralph towards him, getting into his face.

"Just let me go!" Ralph struggled. Jack didn't listen to him, severely intent on making his point.

" _We are friends._ " Jack spoke through gritted teeth. "I am your friend and I'm telling you, you are not going to be friends with those bloody losers anymore!"

Ralph cringed for a moment at the swear words, before his anger made him raise his fist and punch the other boy straight in the jaw. Jack backed away, dumbfounded and slightly hurt for a fraction of second, his wide eyes staring at Ralph as if seeing him for the first time.

"You're not my friend, Jack!" He spurted, on the verge of tears. "You have left me and ignored me for so much time and now you come and tell me what to do?!" He wiped a small tear from the corner of his eye. "Just leave me alone!"

The ginger gawked with large, pale eyes at the sniveling boy and Ralph knew he didn't understand it. It wasn't in Jack's nature to understand these sensible things, just like it wasn't in Ralph's nature to understand why Jack and Roger never got tired of bullying other people. They looked at each other for a few moments, before Ralph turned away, which had been fatal mistake. The bigger boy suddenly jumped on him and crushed him with his weight, taking Ralph's hands and holding them behind his back with an almost unbearable strength.

"Let me go, Jack!" Ralph kicked and trashed, but this only fueled the redheaded child more, who used his entire weight to sit on the back of the struggling boy, before he grabbed a fistful of the fair hair and tugged at it; he leaned in and got his face closer to the back of Ralph's head.

"You are my friend. Only mine." Jack repeated , as if in a trance, which frightened the smaller boy even more. Ralph started screaming and yelling for help, but Jack covered his mouth with his palm, which only resulted in muffled, desperate sounds from the fair boy. Jack grasped his hair even tighter and wanted to hit his head on the hard floor to stop him from making noises, but in his distress, Ralph bit the inside of his palm, making the ginger scream in pain. Just as he grasped the opportunity, he started yelling again.

"Help! Somebody help me!" He yelped teary-eyed, and Jack growled outraged and raised his fist for a strike.

"What's going on here?!" The shrilly voice of an elder female echoed in the halls, freezing the two boys in place, Jack with his fist raised and Ralph with wide, wet eyes and an open mouth in surprise. The fair boy was the first to recover and quickly yelled.

"Help! He's trying to beat me!"

He felt Jack swell with fierce determination and fury; Ralph closed his eyes, preparing himself for a hit, but that's when he sensed Jack being pulled away from him by the steady hand of an adult and Ralph thanked god for the timing. He turned on his back and saw Jack creating a storm in the teacher's hands and flailing his legs and arms around with all his seven year old's strength.

"Let me go!" Jack screeched like a banshee, his burning blue eyes still trailed on Ralph's shaking form, making the fair boy enlarge his eyes in apprehension at the negative emotions that were directed at him. "You'll pay, Ralph!" He threatened, while being carried away. "I'll forever follow you, got that? You're my friend, not theirs!"

The teacher struggled to hold him in place, as she chastised him.

"I can't believe you, Jack Merridew!" She scolded. "Your parents will be very disappointed in you for making this whole mess! And in your first year too!" She spoke scandalized, dragging the trashing boy after her, but Jack seemed to not care about her words, his powerful gaze still slashing through Ralph, who was staring at the whole scene in shock.

His wildly beating heart was slowing down as the fair boy processed everything that had just happened. He couldn't believe Jack had done that to him. He couldn't believe that Jack had tried to beat him for befriending boys other than him. That he had thought of Jack as a true friend, once.

Jack hadn't been his friend. He hadn't deserved Ralph and the time Ralph had shared with him. Jack had shown his true face and he was controlling and a horrifying person.

He was a beast and the fair boy's frustration and heavy disappointment and sorrow manifested themselves in the tears of an innocent and scared child, on the bridge of finding out about the dark side of the world for the first time in his life.

…

The afternoon glow fell over the three boys as they escaped the darkness of the school and went out into the autumnal air. They laughed and joked, just like any other fifteen years old boys would, as they enjoyed the little free time they had at disposal, until they reached their homes, their sanctuaries, where they managed to get away from all the commotion for an appreciated time.

The calm spirits didn't last long. As soon as they passed the corner of the street, they were about to face one of their worst nightmares and greatest anxieties, but the three boys tried to walk with their chins up, they tried to ignore the snake pit they were about to walk in. As always, it was futile, because the so-called snakes were always eager to grasp the smallest opportunity to spill their venom at the three boys.

The smallest, dark-haired boy timidly grabbed the sleeve of the fair one, and they all tensed as they approached the other three vicious bullies, who were apparently enthusiastic about their appearance.

"It's them, Ralph." The plump boy on the other side of the blond announced, his voice trembling, even after all this time. "It's Merridew, Black and Talbot. " He arranged his specs, drops of sweat trailing down the sides of his face. "Thankfully, the other two are not with them today."

"Yeah, _thankfully._ " Ralph replied bitterly. "But these are the worst."

It had constantly been like this ever since Merridew threatened him in the first grade. Years of mocking, teasing and bullying from Merridew and his group, because Ralph couldn't call those Merridew's friends, given the wolf pack attitude they shared. They only knew how to demolish and damage, they were Satan's spawns, if Ralph had to compare them to something. Especially Merridew and Black. Sometimes, Ralph and his friends escaped easily, only with evil remarks thrown at them, but other times, their encounters ended up with blood, bruises or even broken arms or legs, on both sides, especially when Ralph and Merridew ended up in one of their angry fist fights.

Simon didn't get that beaten most of the time, because the bullies seemed to be reluctant about hurting him more than necessary, but Peter and Samneric – who were missing at the moment, to Ralph's relief, because they weren't going to be involved, at least this time- had some of the worst. At least the twins managed to defend themselves, throwing punches once in a while, but Peter always turned into a rag in their hands, due to his lack of backbone, and ended up losing his specs or finding them broken.

After the first violent encounters, Ralph got desperate and asked his friends not to hang out with him anymore, since everything happened because of his and Merridew's feud, but they refused to leave Ralph, and the boy got a deep gratefulness for their devotion.

Ralph wasn't sure why the Merridew group even bullied them after all this time, since their feud was too old already, they had been just children, and Ralph had hoped for years that the ginger would eventually put a stop to his torment, but it was in vain. Merridew was either still fixed on his revenge, or he and his group just enjoyed destroying other people again and again. Or both.

"Maybe they will just comment and then leave us alone, at least this time." Simon spoke with vague hope, even though his green eyes betrayed the painful doubt.

Ralph cringed when he thought about the innocent boy having to be part of this again and his instinct was to run and drag his friends after him, but the ridiculous dignity stopped him from making those smart moves. It always had to be that ridiculous dignity.

It happened in a beat. The bullies' eyes were like headlights, and their grins were mentally biting from the three boys, before the leader's voice pierced the tension.

"Roger. Maurice. Grab the batty kid and Piggy."

Two dark heads smoothly moved through the air with feline agility and seized the respective boys in less than a second. Peter started breathing heavily, his asthma kicking in, while Simon remained like a stone, his small arms being forcefully pulled at by Roger's claw-like hands. Ralph tried to protest and dashed towards the two bullies, but his own arm was hurtfully captured in a fiery grip.

"Just leave them alone, Merridew!" The fair boy turned his head and looked at the ginger straight in the eye. "They didn't do anything, it's me you want!"

Merridew laughed.

"Oh, the good ol' golden boy always trying to save his little, pathetic friends." He smirked. "So just, so fair, so eager to be a hero, in his own little, pathetic world." He tightened the grip on Ralph's arm and the fair boy scrunched his features in pain, before Merridew leaned in close to his face with a malevolent expression.

"But guess what? You're not a hero. You're not just and you're not fair." He stopped for a moment and mockingly scanned Ralph up and down. "Well, except for your pretty looks, that is."

Ralph furrowed his brow as his stomach tightened at the peculiar choice of words, and he felt even weirder for actually according importance to meaningless words from a brutish bully.

"This is the real world, golden boy." Merridew carried on in the same gloating manner. "And my tribe and I win here." He showed his sharp teeth, before he dragged Ralph after him, and the fair boy saw out of the corner of the eye the other two bullies pulling his friends away. Ralph started struggling and almost managed to kick Merridew in the gut, but the redhead avoided the hit in time and grabbed his other arm too, twisting them behind his back.

There was a blur, as Ralph only felt the punches and the kicks, he heard the other two bullies laughing, he heard Simon's whimpers and Peter wailing and yelling after his glasses for the umpteenth time and Merridew spitting nasty words at him and Ralph retaliated with some of his own, as he and Merridew ended up in a tangle on the pavement, beating the life out of each other.

He saw Merridew's fist coming at him, but Ralph acted quickly and raised his knee, with the intention of kicking him in the pills, but he only landed one next to Merridew's thigh, before the ginger grabbed his shirt and turned him around, and the image with them as seven years old boys flashed before Ralph's eyes, a sense of déjà-vu overwhelming him.

Merridew was on Ralph's back again, the rigid fingers plunging themselves in Ralph's fair tresses and pulling at them, as another clutch forced its way around Ralph's neck, and the boy realized Merridew was attempting a strangulation on him. He struggled violently as his heartbeat fastened in terror, and he heard Black's excited voice in all the dizziness that started getting him.

"Do him, chief! Do him!"

Merridew barked a rough laugh as Ralph trashed even more in panic at the bully's words. The ginger's voice then came from around his left ear.

"No worries, spot of sunshine, I'm only roughin' you up a little, giving you a little mark." The fingers dug themselves harder into the skin of his neck and the fair boy was almost desperate, as he wrestled and choked, a fog masking his view. But in all that chaos, Ralph was not as panicked about the fact that his archenemy was strangling him and that he was close to passing out, as much as he was about the fact that he didn't perceive the pain at the level at which he should have.

There was a tingling below his stomach and shivers prickled his skin, while Merridew's front unintentionally rubbed against his rear in all the struggle and this, combined with the euphoria that enveloped Ralph from the lack of oxygen and the vaguely perceived pain from around his neck, made Ralph erupt in a noise that shouldn't have ever been heard by the people that surrounded him in that moment.

It was the distinctive sound of a moan and, in his horror and extreme embarrassment, the fair boy realized he was aroused by what was Merridew doing to him. To a small degree of relief, the other boys didn't seem to have noticed that he had actually moaned in pleasure. They probably believed he had moaned in fear and pain, because Black kept shouting with the same sick excitement, while Talbot continued laughing.

But something was definitely not the same. And Ralph realized it was Merridew. The ginger had paused the violent act for a few moments and remained like that, before he started it again, but much softer, almost as if he pretended the earlier charade this time. He didn't even laugh anymore, he just kept his fingers in a tight clutch around Ralph's neck, before something even more horrifying happened.

He gave a harsher squeeze on Ralph's neck and his crotch subtly pushed into Ralph's rear with obvious intention at the same time, making the fair boy choke another moan, his own cock twitching in his pants. Ralph's internal voice yelled and screamed loudly inside his head as it dawned on him that Merridew was humping him and making it look like a fight in front of the others.

 _He was humping him. Actually made sexual motions on him. And Ralph got harder because of it too._ If this wasn't going to send him straight to hell, he didn't know what was.

Then everything stopped. Ralph felt Merridew remain still on his back, before he stood up, the weight disappearing, and he heard the others being silenced, while Merridew was calmly dusting off his pants. Ralph breathed heavily and he didn't dare to open his eyes, in fear for what was about to happen.

He was done. He actually was a poof, he'd had an erection for another boy and Merridew had realized it and did those last gestures to confirm it. He was going to tell everyone, he was going to mock him and ridicule him in front of the entire school and town and Ralph's father was going to find out, then disown him and throw him in the streets, or worse, in a mental hospital. It was over for him.

"Roger. Maurice. Release the whiners. Let's go."

There were protests and Ralph opened his eyes and looked up at the scene. He didn't dare to get up, in fear of the others seeing his 'problem', but he saw Merridew and the other bullies arguing to an extent, a whole bunch of names being thrown, while Simon and Peter looked fearful and confused.

In the end, Black and Talbot reluctantly followed Merridew, who threw Ralph one last look. The fair boy noticed that Merridew's stare was eerie and unreadable, his icy blue eyes not bearing the mocking, hateful glint that he always had when looking at Ralph.

It was probably the most twisted moment in Ralph's life.

Black gave Peter one last resentful push and the fat boy fell on the pavement, before the three bullies left them there, shaken up and more bewildered than ever.

"W-what has just happened?" Simon inquired in a trembling voice.

Peter gave Ralph a look, as if expecting the fair boy to explain the situation. When Ralph avoided his eyes and his head fell on the ground in defeat, the bespectacled boy furrowed his brow.

"I have no idea."


	2. Retaliation

He didn't know what had happened to him, but he tried really hard to figure it out.

Ralph mostly thought about it for the next few days, but nothing came to him. He'd literally had an erection when Merridew started strangling him.

Did that mean he liked being strangled? That didn't make any sense. Why would he like something like that? Why would anyone like something like that?

The fair boy had fretted over this and reached the conclusion that he had only been tired and confused. Those were the first days of September, he wasn't used to the school's schedule yet and Merridew's gang had also ambushed him too quickly. That was the only rational explanation that Ralph could come up with.

But what wasn't rational was his own behavior when Merridew interacted with him in the following days. Of course Merridew was his usual self, with his smug and cocky attitude, despite that Ralph believed he would have changed his behavior as well, after what had happened. But it didn't. What changed was Ralph's reaction towards Merridew's provocations and mocking remarks.

The fair boy usually retorted calmly or in the same sarcastic manner when Merridew attacked him. This time, he couldn't help the anxiety that overcame him. It was like he couldn't stop his limbs that had slight tremors, his stomach that tightened in a horrifying, painful knot and the small drops of sweat that trailed down his forehead and down the back of his neck.

It was mostly the fear that his body would have another reaction like the last one around another bloke or around Merridew himself again, and everyone would see it and realize he was attracted to blokes. Ralph still couldn't accept that crushing truth in its entirety, he still hoped that reaction had just been something random, the reason of never having any relationship or sexual interaction of any sort, and being so physical with another person had just woken up some yearnings, despite that the physical interaction was a violent fight with another boy.

 _And not just another boy._ Ralph thought in bitterness. _Bloody Merridew._

He couldn't understand why Merridew hadn't tattled on him until then, given that it would have been typical for the arsehole, but he didn't and Ralph couldn't get why.

In any other circumstances, he would have believed Merridew was a pretty nice bloke deep down inside, if Ralph had been any other person. But he wasn't. He knew Merridew, he knew what an evil bastard he was and what he was capable of. Perhaps he just waited for the right time to strike, to destroy him. The more Ralph thought about it, the more sense it made.

That was another reason why he had the permanent fear around Merridew, couldn't respond to his insults anymore and tried to avoid him the best he could. Because Merridew had found the perfect advantage over him, and it was an advantage that would have helped the serpent get his revenge. Ralph still thought what the revenge was for more specifically, he had thought about it all those years, because it didn't make sense that Merridew would still be angry about the reason from the first grade. But nothing was certain when it came to the tosser.

Ralph tried to ignore Merridew's attacks, but of course this tactic brought more of the Merridew torment upon him. Not to mention the teacher who suddenly decided after all these years to move Merridew next to him, because he'd finally 'had enough with all the drama and wanted to teach them a lesson and make them get along once and for all'. Ralph wondered if that teacher had lived in a cave for all his life, because he didn't apparently know that the idiotic solution would bring even more chaos between two people who hate each other.

"Mr. Merridew, since you like Mr. Foley so much and continuously desire to get his attention, why don't you move next to him?"

Laughter rippled through class as both Merridew and Ralph paled and remained like two logs. The teacher repeated his order and of course there had to be a loud protest from Merridew's side, which fueled the teacher even more.

"And you'll always sit like this in my class. Plus, you'll do all the collective assignments _together_  from now on. Mr. Merridew, I believe you can break up with Mr. Black for at least an hour a week."

Ralph groaned as Merridew reddened in anger and grumbled, before he stood up and carried his belongings as loudly and rudely as possible, even intentionally dropping some of them on the way and slowly bending to retrieve them, just to be a pill, which earned him other furious remarks from the teacher and snickers from the other boys.

Simon looked at the fair boy apologetically, "I'm sorry, Ralph." The small boy spoke with regret, then gathered his own things and went to move next to Black, but not before Merridew bumped into him and made him drop his books on the floor.

"That's it!" The teacher snapped at the end of his patience. "Just move already or you will get detention!"

The ginger grinned satisfied with all the ruckus he had caused, before he violently propped himself in Simon's chair and Ralph cringed, thinking for a second that he had broken it.

The fair boy turned and severely tried to ignore him again, as he intended to look anywhere except to his left. He felt his anxiety overcoming him again and started tapping his foot in restlessness, concentrating on what the teacher was saying.

Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. Ralph turned towards Peter, but the plump boy was intensely focused on the lesson and the fair boy frowned when he realized Merridew was attempting to pull a scheme on him. Ralph wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. He arranged his features into a serene expression as if nothing had happened and kept looking forward. Of course, he knew that if he continued ignoring him, it would be worse, which was exactly what happened.

In the next few minutes, he felt as if he was going to boil inside as Merridew carried on with tapping his shoulder and he even intentionally touched Ralph's hair at certain points, making the fair boy tremble in anger. He breathed in deeply, still trying to abstain himself from lounging at Merridew. It would have gotten both of them in trouble and Ralph didn't want to have another physical fight with Merridew, not then and especially not in front of the whole class.

When Ralph thought that he had stopped, a small piece of paper ended up on his desk, and the fair boy tried to ignore it, but the bastard started poking his shoe with his own.

"Pst. Foley. Open it."

Ralph exhaled in a long breath and threw an irritated look at the grinning ginger, before he reluctantly unfolded the small paper.

_'You look quite nice today, Foley. How's it down there?'_

The fair boy felt the color drain from his face as he heard low snickers coming from the bastard. That was the first time Merridew was bringing it up and he didn't want to respond to this. He didn't even want to be reminded of it, and Ralph pondered the thought of actually not answering, but it might have been worse. The ginger arsehole could have said it out loudly, if Ralph didn't cooperate, and the whole class could have heard it.

He just released a long breath then wrote his acidic reply. Two could play that game.

_'I don't know, Merridew. Why don't you check it out for me?'_

He almost smiled when he saw Merridew's smug grin somewhat fading.

_'Why would I check it out? I'm not eager for it like you are.'_

The fair boy's face almost exploded in embarrassment and anger. He didn't understand too much what 'it' was more exactly. He had an idea though and he wrote back viciously and tremulously.

_'I wouldn't be so sure. After all, you enjoyed it almost as much as me.'_

This time Merridew wasn't smiling anymore and Ralph felt the pleasant sensation of good comeback surge through his veins.

_'My prick wasn't the one that was desperate to get out, blondie.'_

Ralph almost dropped the paper. He discretely looked around in panic that someone might have seen what Merridew had written, but the class was the same. No one tried to peek on them. Drops of sweat trickled down his temples as he threw the ginger a murderous look, and Merridew's grin bloomed for the umpteenth time. Honestly, Ralph was quite sick of that grin.

_'And I wasn't the one who humped another bloke in the middle of the street.'_

He was getting into perilous territory and he was aware of it. If Merridew's rage blew out, a catastrophe would ensue. And not any catastrophe. One related to him, one that would put an end to him.

The redhead didn't seem too angry though. Instead he strangely furrowed his brow as he intensely glanced one last time at Ralph. Shivers prickled the fair boy's back, a sensation similar to the one that he'd had a few days ago, after their fight.  It was the stare that lacked the irony and the passive aggressiveness specific to Merridew.

It was unsettling if he was to be honest, and the blond frowned before he turned and tried to forget about everything related to him for the rest of the class. He still couldn't concentrate on the teacher's sayings though, his mind constantly flying to that disastrous day and particular event, the painful anxiety gnawing at him once more.

Which led to other, older events and finally ended on one certain moment from the fair boy's past.

Ralph was aware that he had never had anything in particular to do with the opposite gender. Ever since he remembered himself, he had constantly preferred the company of same-sex people, especially when it came to his peers. He remembered how his parents had tried to get him closer to a girl his age when he was eight, and the girl had been eager to play childish, romantic scenes with him in front of the parents and she had even had a minor fancy for him at the time, despite that Ralph couldn't have been more indifferent towards her. From what the fair boy had observed, regular little boys either pretended the 'girls-have-cooties' part or had the same love struck attitude towards their female partners.

Ralph was neither of those. He had a small interest towards the girl's attempts at friendship, but immediately turned unfeeling, once he realized their parents' intentions.

They were eight of course and the couple image was only meant for theatrics, but his eight years old version couldn't have been more utterly disgusted at the perspective of ever being with a girl. He had never thought about being with a boy either and when he heard the twins or other boys talk about shameful activities like masturbation or female body parts, he was always left cold.

Like any other adolescent boy, Ralph had occasional erections and took care of them in the classical way. But he never thought about anything in particular while doing it, he just saw them as mere biological problems that had to be solved. He even believed there was something wrong with him at one point, but eventually renounced at meditating upon it.

But never, in his entire life, had he considered the idea of actually fancying blokes. Not until the fateful day.

The deep fear fluttered beneath the blonde boy's exterior, raw, mild panic consuming and twisting his mind, as the realization dawned on him. He fancied blokes. He liked his own sex in a world where something like that was forbidden and punished in every possible manner. They locked, tortured, even murdered people for this very reason and here he was, at the hands of his most hated enemy who possessed this fatal information about him.

A keen sense of awareness wrapped around him, awareness of the fact that he had to act according to Merridew. He was at the ginger's hand, now more than ever, he had to respect and stand whatever the evil, greedy git pleased. If Merridew told him to kiss his feet, Ralph would have to do it because otherwise his life would be destroyed.

The fair boy clenched his fist only at the simple thought that he had to bend to the devil himself, intense fury clawing at his insides, but he tried to calm himself. He had to stay in control and not punch Merridew right then and there.

It was odd though how he had never felt any attraction towards any other boy apart from the ginger. If he had, he didn't remember it or hadn't acknowledged it at the time. He thought about his friends, he thought about Peter and Simon and the twins and he realized none of them appealed to him in the slightest.

He thought about other boys, he even forced himself to analyze Merridew's friends from a physical point of view, but his stomach churned with hate. He wasn't even capable of thinking about them, let alone considering them as potentially attractive people. Disgust poured through him when he realized Merridew was the only bloke he did feel indeed a certain attraction for and he shuddered at the horrendous acknowledgement. It was twisted and wrong on so many levels and he tried to perceive what reason was behind that.

Had he always liked Merridew deep down inside, because of their short childhood friendship, but hadn't actually realized it? That didn't make much sense, since for eight years, the ginger had bullied, tormented and made fun of him in so many ways that he had even gotten a small anxiety problem because of it.

The fact that he was attracted to that person in spite of everything he had done to Ralph and his friends made the fair boy consider his own mental health. It was weird and truly masochistic and the blond stilled in shock when he felt his prick harden at the memories of Merridew punching him and grabbing at his flesh with rough, calloused hands, bruising him, and the slight erection turned into a full one when his mind played the strangling scene in his head again, clear and vivid and almost too real. Blood rushed through him and he desperately tried to erase those images from his head as he moved his legs trying to manage his prick back into its normal state.

Ralph almost banged his head on the table when he realized the thing he had tried to escape from the most returned exactly at the most inappropriate moment, during the class and especially when Merridew was sitting less than a foot from him.

He thought about other horrendous things and managed to put it down to an extent by the time the loud bell that announced the end of the class resounded through the building. Ralph quickly gathered his books and exited the room before Merridew even had the chance to pick on him again, and in his haste, he even forgot that he was supposed to wait for his friends in order to go home together as they always did.

The fair boy almost flew down the halls of the school, his bag bumping against his shoulder as he barely avoided other students, before he finally managed to get out of that hellhole, breathing heavy and sweat trailing down his neck. He didn't know what he tried to avoid for the most part, but he guessed it was everyone after all, his friends, the people in that damned school and especially Merridew.

If the ginger even caught the smallest hint that he was in that state again, god only knew what would happen to Ralph. He could have very well made fun of him in front of the entire school, while laughing and pointing at Ralph's crotch, calling the fair boy all kinds of names related to queer kind. Ralph shuddered only when he thought about it.

His mind buzzed as he crossed several streets on the way home, momentarily forgetting about Merridew and reminding himself to apologize the next day to his friends for leaving them behind. Peter and Simon were mostly forgiving and kind, Peter being a little more than harsh on Ralph at times when trying to correct his ways, and he knew Samneric wouldn't care too much about it, given that they always disappeared at the most random times, usually to get their hands on some good-looking birds. Out of the five of them, the twins were the most preoccupied with the sexual aspect of life, as any other ordinary teenage boys should have been.

Peter had a few certain self-consciousness issues regarding his physical appearance and Ralph didn't know what to think of Simon, since he was mostly silent, and even after all those years, Ralph still didn't know the boy as well as he knew his other friends. The greatest dilemma was Ralph himself, to his friends and most of the school population. The fair boy was aware he caught eyes everywhere he went and that he had gathered quite many fancies in his previous school years. He wasn't the biggest or tallest around, but he was seen as attractive from most points of view, as he heard rumors of him being compared to works of art. Ralph usually laughed at the words spread about him and he considered them somewhat naive and ridiculous. He might have been good-looking, but not _that_ good-looking, and he was sure people just exaggerated as they always did.

As he entered the park that he always crossed on the way home, he noticed it was more deserted than usual. The fair boy frowned at the thought of walking alone through it because he was used to his friends joining him, but dismissed the slight tension quickly. Against his will, his mind returned to Merridew and to how much evil the ginger had caused him, compared to how nicely most people had treated him. He pondered the idea of the bastard being jealous of Ralph's popularity derived from his looks and good results in school. It wasn't excluded of course and it made much more sense than Merridew still being settled on the first grade revenge. The fair boy snorted bitterly. _Of course._

Leaves shuffled around him and he jumped slightly startled, checking his surroundings in suspicion; he swallowed unnerved, knowing he had to look back as well. _It couldn't be, following me here would be just pure evil._ He sped up his pace and even thought about running, but didn't succeed in walking much further. His horrifying hunches were proved to be true when a hand suddenly pushed him from behind, making the fair boy end in a heap on the side grass ground, between the tall bushes. He struggled and punched, but his fists only hit air as he was rolled around to see the face of the aggressor, even though Ralph didn't have to see it to know who he was.

"Thinkin' you gonna escape me that easily, golden boy?" Merridew maliciously laughed, breathing heavily while trying to hold the trashing boy below him with a bruising force. He sat with his entire body weight on the desperate blond and pulled out a dark, square-like object from the black bag that he carried with him.

"What in the bloody hell, Merridew?!" He yelled and his eyes widened in pure horror when he saw the camera that the ginger was aiming at him.

"I'm going to take proof of your little friend right here," Merridew grinned, patting the blond's cock through his pants, and the fair boy choked as blood rushed through it, the earlier erection blowing into full force. "And everyone will see how aroused you are by your own sex. Of course, my face won't appear in the pictures and no one will know that I'll be the one who'll spread these pictures through the whole school." He sadistically laughed again as Ralph struggled and thrashed even more, while Merridew placed the camera at an angle on the ground where only Ralph's face could be seen from.

"Stop it!" He protested, "Don't do it!" He tried to push him away, but Merridew snatched both of his hands and placed them above his head, then grabbed the fair boy's neck with the other.

"Don't worry, I won't do anything but strangle you, pretty boy." Merridew grinned, his fingers digging into the smooth skin of the fair boy's neck, before he bent and approached his face to the other boy's and whispered. "Since you like being strangled so much, _your dick_ will do the whole job for the camera."

Ralph gasped and choked as fingers started digging into his neck and the lack of air was unbearable, but also the most arousing sensation he had ever experienced. Sooner than expected he started moaning as his cock swelled to the point of pain, and he began rocking his hips in desperate search for friction. He did it with such mindless fervor and abandon, he couldn't even think straight while his eyelids fluttered, his vision darkened and sweat poured over him. He even momentarily forgot the twisted circumstances in which those things were being done to him, he just moved his hips up and down, heart beating wildly into his chest and cock so hard he thought he was going to come right then and there.

"Jesus, Foley, what the fuck," He heard Merridew mutter in clear startle, his voice rough and low, in a way that Ralph didn't distinguish. He couldn't hold back from his shameless moans and scandalous movement; he was so wrapped up in what Merridew was doing to him, in his fingers digging into his neck, that he felt he had no control over himself anymore.

Merridew swore above him and Ralph's hands were suddenly released from the hold; his shirt's buttons popped off and his chest was exposed to the chilly air. A rough tongue started trailing down his chest as hands roamed over his exposed skin, and Ralph enlarged his eyes when he realized Merridew was groping him. Then the chokehold around his neck disappeared, which made the fair boy dazedly raise his head to see Merridew urgently mouthing at the skin of his chest and stomach, kissing and licking as he grabbed Ralph's waist with large hands, lifting his upper body towards him. The blond's mind was frozen in shock for a moment, shock at Merridew's sexual gestures towards him, but he couldn't react properly. They were in the middle of the park, in an exposed area, hidden only by a thin wall of leaves; and he barely cared, because the lower part of his body was on fire. He had never been harder in his life and it was all because of another boy, because of _him_ touching Ralph in such an obscene way.

"Ah-rougher," Ralph blurted out, looking at Merridew through half-lidded eyes, and the other boy stopped for a moment and raised his icy gaze, making Ralph flush and redden under his scrutiny. His gaze was clouded with such intense lust, that the fair boy got even more aroused at the sight of it, if that was possible. Merridew bit him then, so hard that Ralph thought he drew blood, and he continued whimpering and hissing as Merridew's teeth dug into him, sharp and painful, leaving sucking bruises everywhere he reached.

Within a few short seconds, Ralph was uncontrollably rolling his hips again, and he reached for Merridew's fiery curls, fingers digging into his scalp, before pushing his head lower and Merridew got it. He gave a few more painful bites right above the blond's groin and Ralph heaved as he heard his pants being torn open. His cock was taken in one rough hand and he choked when Merridew tugged at it, panting, his eyes fixed in twisted fascination.

"I always wanted to see this." He spoke, his bolting eyes appearing disturbing in the shadows of the trees. His hand slid up and down the length then squeezed, and the fair boy squirmed and bit his lip, his face on fire. "Looks nice, but I'm quite pleased to find out it's not better than mine." He smirked and Ralph managed to scowl at him through the whole ordeal, but not for long because Merridew gave his cock another sharp pull.

Ralph had to cover his mouth not to yell when Merridew roughly took him into his mouth and slid down far enough that he could feel it hit the back of his throat. Merridew got a good grip on his tight buttocks and held him into place, before he started bobbing his head up and down with savage thirst, sucking his dick like it was something rare and precious, and Ralph clenched his fingers around his hair with all his strength. He shuddered and moaned, nerves alight, as a sadistic grumble escaped Merridew's throat, his nails scratching and digging into Ralph's abdomen. 

"I'll spank you and choke you and bite you," Merridew slurred, tongue trailing the side of his length and harsh fingers rubbing up and down almost violently, "I'll lick you and swallow you up, golden boy, I'm gonna do so many things to you and fuck you till you can't see straight. Oh yes, I'm gonna fuck you so hard and good."

"Oh my god-oh my god-ahh-ah-Jack, I'm gonna-ah-"

He took Ralph into his mouth again and the fair boy weakly pulled at the hair, trying to warn him, but Merridew didn't move an inch, he continued sucking him with enthusiasm until the fair boy reached his peak and saw white. He came with a cry, arching up into the tight, wet heat of the other boy's mouth, and Merridew moaned, drinking him down hungrily and mercilessly milking his cock, until Ralph stopped tugging frantically on his hair and fell limp on the grass floor beneath him.

All colors seemed to come back to him; the slight sounds of the park, the fade light that fell through the trees, after the white spots of light that had clouded his vision in the moment of his release had passed away. His skin cooled down, coated in thick perspiration, and he breathed heavily, trying to come to his senses. When the reality of the act he had just committed sunk in, his heart stopped for a moment in shock.

He had just done something of sexual nature. And with none other but Jack Merridew himself.

The fair boy tried to stand up, but realized there was a crushing weight resting on his lower body. He raised his head and saw the other boy's rusty head lying on his thighs. Air stuck in the fair boy's throat, before he stretched his arm and tried to push him off of him, but Merridew barely budged.

"Jack-" He stopped when he realized he had instinctively called him on his first name then quickly changed his approach. "Merridew. Get off of me." He wriggled, then frowned and pulled at one red curl when he realized that the arsehole purposely clutched at his legs.

Ralph leaped a little when Merridew suddenly lifted his head and looked at him, blue eyes amused.

"That was bloody wicked." He chuckled, rubbing his cheek on Ralph's legs. The fair boy knitted his brow and put his palm on the ginger's face, angrily pushing him away, before buttoning up his pants.

"Just get away from me." He quietly seethed. Merridew's grin faded away, then rolled off of him and continued scrutinizing him as Ralph stood up and grabbed his scattered belongings with one hand, while tightening the ripped shirt around him with the other. Merridew stood up as well and grabbed his shoulder before the fair boy even had the chance to walk two steps.

"Foley, wait-"

His hand was suddenly slapped by the infuriated boy, who turned and got into his face so fast, that Merridew slightly backed away startled.

"Don't you think that I will stand doing nothing while you'll ruin my entire life. Because _I won't_ , this time." He spat. "You can post your damned pictures wherever you want, Merridew. But you can make sure that I'll do everything that it's in my possibility to prove that you were the one who sucked me off in the middle of the park." He spoke through gritted teeth, breathing heavily while glaring at the wide-eyed ginger.

The fair boy was so furious, he couldn't even look at him anymore. With one last threatening stare, he turned and didn't look back once as he got as far away as he could from his damnation.


	3. Pact

They were in the back of the shop, when Peter picked up on his general low-spirits that had been going on ever since the particular incident. Ralph was a bloke that had the tendency to pay attention to the verbal signals his friends sent him, including the tales of the duller adventures they went through during the day. He involved himself in their conversations, being quite accustomed to Peter's dilemmas with certain aspects of Mathematics, or the twins' occasional descriptions of their love affairs, or even the rare Simon mentions about his newly acquired garden plants.

Which was why the fair boy was genuinely taken aback when Peter almost shouted at him to gather his attention, after probably calling his name for more than a couple of times.

„What is happening to you, Ralph?" The plump boy strictly inquisited, slightly arranging the specs on his face while inspecting the blond with sharp eyes. „You've been unusually odd for the past days."

Ralph didn't retort to confirm it, but didn't deny it either. His breath remained stuck, as his fingers lightly dabbed at his leg under the table in apprehension. In fact, this apprehension had dominated over him in the last days, more than it'd done it in any other time of his life. All he thought about was how Merridew could post pictures of him being sucked off by another bloke, the bloke ridiculously being Merridew himself in this case, and show them to the world. Ralph had been somewhat bewildered when he entered the school gates two days ago and expected everyone to accusingly glare at him and whisper between them foul rumors, only to find everything being the same. No one stared at him. No one pointed, laughed or bullied him. There wasn't a soul that paid special attention to him, or a teacher that would grab him by the arm to throw him in the counselor's room, where his father would have waited to send him to the madhouse.

It simply baffled Ralph more than anything, and it was even more curious how Merridew didn't particularly pick on him as he used to. No pictures posted, no words whispered about him, no meaningful glances, suggesting that Ralph's life would soon be over. He actually pondered over the fact that Merridew had been intimidated by Ralph's threat. He actually believed for a moment that Merridew was now afraid he would be discovered as the bloke who Ralph had had his oral sex encounter with. Ralph knew it was too good to be true, but as time passed, this particular belief actually strengthened. It was highly probable that Merridew was afraid that Ralph would blow his cover as well, if he dared to post those pictures.

That didn't make him less paranoid though. No, he still was on guard regarding the redheaded bugger, day after day. He was too unpredictable, and there still was the biting doubt that Merridew would be impressed by such a petty threat, and from Ralph's side nonetheless. Merridew had rarely been afraid or impressed by him, and the fair boy still sensed this was not the case; not yet. If the redhead came onto him with threats again though, Ralph would have to take his stance more seriously. He would have to do something to actually unnerve him.

"Didn't feel quite well." The fair boy retorted, offering a strained half-smile. "Stomach problems."

Peter gazed unconvinced for a moment, appearing as if he was about to insist on the matter. He nodded in understanding instead.

"Well I'm guessin' you don't want the special cake for today."

Ralph cursed himself on the inside. Despite that he couldn't always bear Peter's relatives, he had to admit the confectionery that they had managed to develop from the early candy shop was quite a blast. Each time they found free hours in their schedule, they stopped at 'Bertha's Sweets' to stuff themselves with some of the latest and best specialties of Peter's aunt.

"I don't think it would be that bad if I tried some though." Ralph carried on uneasily, his strained smile widening, as Peter slightly narrowed his eyes at him. The last thing Ralph needed was for his friend to get even more suspicious and he definitely didn't want some questions right then. The worst part was that Peter rarely asked. He was one of those people that figured out even the most difficult and challenging things on their own.

To Ralph's relief, the tension between them broke when two identical heads poked in through the glass entrance door, the bell's rings echoing in the entire room.

"We've made it, lads!" Sam shouted, bursting in along with his brother, both having equal grins on their faces, before almost diving into the chairs between Simon and Ralph. The dark, short boy pleasantly returned the smile, while the fair one rolled his eyes, waiting for the upcoming, regular teenage boys' daily adventures.

"Jen accepted my date." Sam prompted smugly, "This lad here needs to work on it a little more." He pointed at his twin, who didn't seem to be down about it in the slightest.

"Don't have to brag it, son." He grinned back. "There's still lots of time for me." Eric finished. "I'll have Carrie as soon as ya crack yer knuckles." They snickered, putting up a show for everyone in the small shop to see. Peter shook his head at their antics, while Ralph's mood was immediately lifted. Hearing about his friends' chill times calmed the fair boy to an extent and temporarily freed him of his permanent roller coaster of anxiety and torment. It made him somewhat forget about the stress that Jack Merridevil indirectly caused him every minute of his life.

Maybe it was not the same kind of stress as before, because Merridew had strangely stopped bullying Ralph, but this behavior caused him a different kind. It was one that consumed him from the inside out, made his insides swirl in an infinite storm of fears. They would never end, because he would never know what could happen. It was a continuous anticipation.

Merridew barely looked at Ralph anymore, and if he did, his face betrayed nothing. Ralph didn't recall a time when Merridew had ever acted like this toward him. Merridew had always communicated with him in some way or another, despite that it was in a depraved manner, by mocking him, glaring at him, physically and verbally bullying him, or by simply smirking at him. His radically changed attitude was way too out of place and Ralph sensed the bastard was carving a vile plan for him. He didn't know what it was, but he felt it was going to be worse than the last one, which tortured his mind every time he remembered it.

It also tortured his mind because it had a caused a terrifying change in his life. A change that involved the sexual aspect. Ralph had never had any fancy for anyone in particular, and he tried to convince himself he didn't have one for Merridew, but his bodily reactions proved it otherwise. And it wasn't just the fact that he was hornier than usual; it was the mental images of Merridew going down on him that he tried so desperately to get rid of.

His mind constantly conjured Merridew doing to him what he had done in the park; grabbing at his neck to strangle him, licking and biting at his chest and nipples and stomach, taking his cock into his mouth. And even images of what Merridew himself had said he'd do to Ralph. Merridew spanking him until his arse would be raw and sensitive, then actually fucking him until he couldn't see straight. Ralph had null experience in this area and he couldn't even properly imagine what the act would be like more exactly, but he imagined it wouldn't be that much different from regular sex. Except that one's prick would have to go in the arse instead. Ralph shook when he thought about it.

He didn't want to go there, but the dark depths of his mind still accepted he was into this abhorrent kind of activities. He was probably worse than the worst existing poofter, and if anyone ever found out about those abominable urges, he'd literally have to bury himself into the ground. He almost ripped his hair out after a particularly vivid and wild dream about Merridew actually doing that to him, literally fucking him, driving himself into Ralph until he was screaming in his dream, a few minutes before he actually woke up screaming into his pillow, sweat sticking his hair and clothes to his skin, and soiled underwear.

He wanted to throw up after that, he at least wanted to be disgusted with himself, but all he felt was a sick emptiness, some sort of desperation at not having that, which made his morality revolt against his instincts. That was not acceptable. He wasn't supposed to have those dreams and thoughts and impulses, and especially not about Jack Merridew, his oldest and greatest bully. But they were there. And Ralph had to do something about it. He had to avoid even seeing Merridew, he had to stop even looking at him if that was what it took. He could accept the fact that he was queer, but he could not accept that he was queer for Merridew, not to the point where he would want that guy's dick in his own arse.

Ralph had initially thought it would be difficult avoiding Merridew and especially not paying attention to him, but he realized it was actually easier than originally supposed. Especially now, since Merridew didn't interact with him anymore. Everything was going better and even his own friends had noticed this sudden change in their daily lives. The fact that Merridew's gang ambushed them less and less. It still happened of course, even without Merridew leading them. Black and Talbot couldn't have lived without this activity, but Ralph and his friends noticed it was easier for them to confront the rest of the squad without Merridew being there. There was a general confusion regarding Merridew's retreat and his reluctance towards everything Ralph-related, which didn't go unnoticed by his friends of course.

"Blimey, Ralph, what have you done to the all-mighty devil himself?" Eric questioned one day, while chilling on the side benches, near the sports field. Ralph sensed a wisp of tension clutching at his stomach. It was almost midday, they had a break that they'd decided to spend outside, since it was a pleasant day, but the decision hadn't been well thought.

Merridew and his pack were on the field at that particular hour, savagely battling another team of poor unfortunate souls who'd decided to go against them. The redhead didn't appear to be different than usual, he was still set on destroying every living person that dared to cross his path, and Ralph felt his air get stuck in his throat. After a few days of managing to avoid said-devil, he found himself trapped again in front of the plonker.

He couldn't just leave his friends and find a ridiculous excuse once again- he'd done it too many times for the past few days- so he had to bear the image. Seeing Merridew running on the field in soccer shorts, long legs hitting at the ball with a strength which sent it to the other side of the field, enthusiastically yelling and grinning at his mates; and then there was the nasty side of that view. Not that there was a good side, but just looking at him from that far, it might have convinced someone he was a quite decent and acceptable bloke. The nasty side was his constant spitting and swearing, which instinctually made Ralph compare him to a pig. The comparison made his once again flaring attraction die down somewhat. Or so at least he tried to convince himself.

"What do you mean?" He flinched. He didn't want to have too many emotions in front of his friends. "I see he's his usual, disgusting self."

The twins shared meaningful looks, which intensified Ralph's dull ache in the pit of his stomach, a nervousness and sudden fear that they already knew about what'd happened between him and Merridew. Peter was the one who interfered this time.

"I believe you know what he means, Ralph. He's been avoiding us for more than a week, he's not bullying us anymore, and we've all noticed how you desperately try to avoid him as well. Something obviously happened between the two of you, and the question is what could have moved that twat so much to the point where he would give up at his number one pleasure in life: bullying _you_."

And that was the moment in which his pulse raced uncontrollably and his mind was spinning with no answer prepared beforehand. He had to quickly make up a lie on the spot, or other complications would have issued. What could have Ralph told them? That he wanted to have wild sex with Merridew, because he had blown him once in the bushes?

"How should I know why he's avoiding me?" The fair boy took a deep breath and looked away. "I'm just trying to keep away from him more than usual, because I've had it with him. I just want this to be over already. All this drama about bullying. He's got to stop sometime."

He could feel his friends' heavy stares on him and their doubts gnawing at him.

"Ya actually think that'd work?" Sam inquired, scratching at his neck. "I mean, why would something as simple as this stop Merridew? You've tried this before, Ralph, and it didn't work."

Ralph shrugged, his gaze still settled on some far away point in the distance.

"Maybe. But this time, he's changed as well. He's acting differently. And I thought, why not? If he's avoiding me, then I suppose I'll start doing the same. He would eventually get used to us ignoring each other and maybe he would get used to ignoring me in the end. Then all the bullying would stop."

There was a heavy pause that ate at his mind and soul, as his friends silently pondered over his last words. Everything was odd indeed, but maybe that would work. All the shocking events that had recently taken place between Merridew and Ralph would change his and his friends' lives as well. They would slowly start having normal social lives. They would finally know what'd be like to exist without being bullied. Well, at least not as much as before. If Merridew stopped because of whatever reason was consuming him, then Merridew's pack would have also eventually done the same. It was just a matter of time.

He didn't know that another side of his life would drastically change instead, and even more shockingly so.

…

He was in P.E. when it happened, two days after. Just passing the ball to his teammates during soccer, when a brute force pushed him to the ground, knocking him to the grass floor. He felt as if he had been sedated for moments, and sensed drops trickle down his temple, his head swimming in agonizing pain. When his view turned clearer, he managed to see the imposing figure towering over him, the recognizable dark blue shorts and strong legs that seemed to stretch for miles above him, and his heart raced when he realized Merridew was smirking down at him.

A whistle blew in the air and paused the game only to yell words that drowned Ralph in a terrible pit of dread.

"Merridew, since you're responsible for Foley's head injury, you're taking him to the nurse! And if I hear of another violent encounter, you'll get detention for all month!"

A terrible panic seized Ralph when he felt Merridew's hand on the upper part of his arm, his grip steady and firm, but not enough to hurt, which was slightly surprising to the fair boy. He supposed the ginger didn't want the coach to see him being rough with Ralph, not until they were out of his hawk-like sight. When they reached the halls of the school, the panic mixed with angst, and sick in the depths of his stomach, along with a sudden rapid beat of his pulse, that increased the longer he was alone with the other boy. He was even more surprised when Merridew just slowed down his pace, his clutch becoming a notch softer; soft enough for Ralph to barely feel it.

He was still somewhat in a daze due to the bleeding bruise on his head, but he could still sense Merridew's hand moving from his upper arm, to the side of his middle and then a little lower; to his hip, slightly digging his fingers there as a pretense to steady Ralph better. The fair boy abruptly stiffened and put a stop in his tracks, grabbing Merridew's hand with his own and pushing it away, before stepping back hastily, which earned him another wave of dizziness. Merridew was on him again, as soon as he blinked, supporting his weight, as not to end up on the floor like a crumpled cloth.

"Just get away from me!" Ralph snapped, one hand grabbing at his own head, the other pushing at Merridew's face, as the tall redhead was apparently set on sticking to him like a leech. "I can go to the nurse by myself!" He concentrated on seeing above him, only to be met by a half-smirking face.

"Doubt it, Foley. You can barely stand on your own legs." His voice smoothly replied. He then grabbed at Ralph's middle again and slowly started leading him further, and the smaller boy felt his face getting warm and his body flush more at the close proximity of their bodies. He wanted to beat himself up, because Merridew was the one who had intentionally hit him in the first place, and now he acted like he was some sort of hero for helping Ralph get there. He had a terrible feeling that Merridew had some intentions in mind; he hadn't had any reaction towards Ralph for a while, and now he was suddenly his old, deceitful self. A plan had definitely been made during this time and Merridew was most probably going to tell him in their short, lonely time together. The anticipation and tension were torturing him, until he couldn't stand it anymore. He just suddenly turned to the other boy.

"What do you want from me?"

The silence was deafening as the tall boy calmly faced him, slightly looming forward with an uncharacteristically stern expression.

"I'm glad you asked." He spoke placidly, his sharp, blue stare measuring him. "I've developed the pictures. Quite lovely, they are. Beat myself to them a few times." Ralph widened his eyes as his breath hitched, blood rushing to various places in his body, most prominently his face and lower regions. He tightened his mouth, the familiar warmth filling him, just as every time it did when he got into his specific arousal regarding Merridew. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let Merridew affect him so intensely, just by uttering a few immoral words.

"Why should I care?" He bit back, pale eyes defying. "I've already told you you're in the same dangerous position as me. I can tell everyone you're the one who blew me."

Merridew leaned more, face now slightly threatening. Ralph barely abstained from backing away again; instead he held his ground against the ferocity of the other boy.

"Do you actually think anyone will believe you?" He menaced, baring his teeth. "I have proof, you don't. Your position is considerably less significant than mine in this town. Your father is a simple naval officer, while my parents govern over the banking system. You're nothing. Even if there are people who'll believe you, you'll still be at a disadvantage. I'll throw you in a mental institute before you even realize what's going on." It just poured out of his mouth like poison. Snake poison that spilled over Ralph and paralyzed him, numbed him, ate at his core, and froze him in deathly fear. All the warmth was gone as he gaped at the other boy, petrified features, and fists tight at his side, despair suffocating him. Why was he doing all those things? Why did he constantly attack him, and persecute him, over and over again? What had he done so wrong that the monster always felt the need to terrorize him?

"Why?" His mouth moved before he stopped himself, in a half-choked and anguished whisper. The other boy's eyes gleamed, his face unmovable this time, narrowly surveying him like a predator. Ralph didn't even flinch anymore when the redhead's fingers harshly grabbed at his chin and brought his lips there, slightly biting.

"Because that's what I live for, golden boy. To torment you. To humiliate you." His tongue went higher, swiping below his bottom lip, then at the corner of his mouth, but not at his lips. Not there. Ralph's body still reacted in spite of the whole depraved situation, and the burning in his cheeks intensified at Merridew's motions, but also because of the agonizing fury that had gathered in him. It was truly twisted and wrong and sick, and yet he still physically enjoyed it, despite that his mind screamed at the despicable manner in which Merridew was manipulating him.

"These are reasonable motives for your submission to me." He muttered in between licks, his breathing growing considerably heavier, and Ralph realized the redhead was just as turned on. "I've been thinking about this for quite a while now. My parents are gone this Saturday. I want you at my house in the evening, or else I will actually spread the pictures this time." Another lick, at the junction between his face and neck. Ralph harshly breathed and shuddered, still too warmed up to be in actual shock, but too appalled to give a proper reaction.

"I won't…" He trailed off in a searing haze, attempting to wriggle out of the redhead's embrace, but too weak. The pain from his head and the feeling of Merridew's tongue mapping at his face were too much. His rational mind yelled at him to protest, to fight against him, but his darkest will didn't want him to do those things. He was too attracted to Merridew, and painfully so, he wanted to go at his house and indulge himself in whatever lewd activity Merridew had planned for them.

"Yes, you will." Merridew's lips moved into his skin. He gave another suck on Ralph's neck, before he backed away to stare into his face, gloating and quite winded up as well. Ralph gazed back at him stirred, flames lapping over his face, and Merridew smiled triumphantly. He then put his arm on Ralph's waist to slowly direct him towards the end of the hall.

"Now let's head there, before I end up doing something regrettable in the middle of the school."

…

Everything that followed was torturous. Going into school, seeing his friends, occasionally seeing Merridew's wicked, furtive smile directed at him, when no one was looking. The redhead didn't restart his session of bullying, and Ralph actually doubted that he would do it. Not with him anyway, given that he had found another favorite activity to entertain himself with. Ralph's mind was still torn apart regarding the decision of actually meeting Merridew in private. He intensely thought about not going after all, and finding a method to give the ginger away, but nothing came to him. Merridew was right. He had the pictures, the remote proof of Ralph's compromising situation, and he was more influential than Ralph. He would have won in this, without much of an actual fight. And the fair boy didn't even know if he actually wanted to fight Merridew anyway. He still dreamed and fantasized about Merridew, and committing various, scandalous acts with him; even purposely jerked off a few times while thinking about what would have happened at Merridew's place.

He was almost desperate, and his intense, sexual excitement overwhelmed him in the end. When he saw the note with the address inside his desk on Friday, his heart violently bounced into his rib cage, in thrill and expectation. He decided to pay a visit to Merridew, after all. He knew it was an insane thing to do, but he tried to tell himself he mostly did it because of Merridew manipulating him. The blatant lie was shameful and degrading, but he pushed those moral thoughts aside.

When the time came, he almost jumped in impatience. Just quickly put his jacket on and burst out the door without even announcing his father of his departure. Not that he used to do it that much anymore, but his father still insisted on it, especially due to what'd happened to his mother, years ago.

He walked in a whirling cloud there. Still managed to slightly recognize the neighborhood though, being one of the fancier ones. Rich people. Ralph wasn't even surprised, given Merridew's treatment of everyone and everything, and especially his excessive narcissism. The house was even more impressive, especially when compared to those around; had a grave, almost somber allure, with high windows, and sharp angles, and it was enormous, close to being called a mansion in that place. He didn't even know how to approach it. Should he have simply rung at the huge door at the front, or gone through the back? It had to have back door, every house had one, and he suspected that mansion had even more than one. He decided to go at the front door after all, since Merridew had said that his parents weren't home. No need to hide, he supposed.

His stomach dropped when he was greeted not by Merridew himself, but by a middle-aged woman, dressed in what Ralph could clearly say was a servant outfit. His anxiety blew through the roof, when he realized they wouldn't be alone. He should have guessed Merridew had servants  _roaming around_  the  _whole_ house.

"I'm sorry, I believe I shouldn't be here, I-", He started in alarm, trying to get away from that place before he got in deeper trouble. He mentally kicked himself for even agreeing to the whole thing, and was about to back away when the woman warmly smiled at him and opened the door to let him pass.

"Oh, you're here for the young master, aren't you? He's told us he's been waiting for you. Blonde, pretty boy, he said." Ralph fervently shook his head, trying to find quick excuses, but the woman gently grabbed him and dragged him inside. He was quickly led through various, large rooms, guided up massive stairs. The inside of the house had the same darkness as the exterior, and Ralph didn't feel comfortable being there. At all. The more he reached the depths of that house, the more he wanted to get out. What had Merridew been thinking, planning such things when he had people walking through the house at all hours? His nonchalance was astounding, and Ralph felt particularly scandalized by it. He didn't even know why he'd told him about his parents being gone, when there were other people there anyway.

He was finally pushed through a dark door, and found himself in a room almost as spacious as the rest. It was a bedroom, with a king-sized bed, dark blue covers, and walls of the same color. Shelves stacked with books were pinned to the opposite wall of the room, stretching from the ceiling to the floor, and there were a few clothes thrown away in another corner. And of course, there was the side dedicated to Merridew's love for music. Music sheet papers lying everywhere, prizes that showed Merridew's previous accomplishments, and two guitars; one mahogany classic, the other electric.

Well, he could say the room screamed of Merridew indeed.

Naturally, he'd spotted the redhead, ever since he got in. He was in the far corner of the room, an unrecognizable book in his hand, but eyes trailed on Ralph and the ever specific, trademark smirk on his face. He'd waited for Ralph to get accustomed to the room, from what the fair boy could tell.

"Been waiting for you, golden boy." He closed the book with a thud, and put it back into its place, before turning to him.

"Why the hell did you tell me you'd be alone in the house?" Ralph sharply inquired, brow knitted into a frown. Merridew smiled wider.

"When did I say I would be alone?" He retorted, raising his eyebrows in mock perplexity. "I said my parents would be gone. And they are." Ralph shook his head, a piercing anger overcoming him, then swirled to reach the door in an attempt to flee that place; the gesture seemed like it'd lighted a match in the form of Merridew, because not before Ralph sketched a step, the redhead was there, pinning him to the door, his whole front pressed against Ralph's back.

"Where do you think you're going?" Merridew growled into his hair, one hand stuck into the door, above Ralph's head, the other fixed on Ralph's neck. The fair boy breathed quickly and shallowly, his body responding again, against his intent, and he gave a low whine in the back of his throat as Merridew slowly started pushing his front into his bum. He could feel his own cock instantly harden, and he dug his nails into the wood, futilely trying to hold on to something.

"W-we can't do this here. They would hear." He feverishly mumbled, his body already charged with sexual tension. He didn't even know if he cared that much by then, he would truly accept everything Merridew had in mind for him. Merridew moved his hand from Ralph's neck to his pale locks, and tugged at them, the sudden pain sending more warmth through the fair boy's groin. He was frozen in hot pleasure as Merridew savagely maneuvered him. Pushing his crotch into Ralph's jean-clad arse, and grabbing at his hair; his mouth descended onto Ralph's stretched neck, lightly biting into the smooth skin.

"I know they would hear." Merridew grumbled amused into his neck. "They are aware of my occasional adventures." His teeth dug harder, and Ralph couldn't help it. He gave a loud moan, instantly forgetting about the fact that he was confused as to how an entire group of older people knew about Merridew's less than favorable rendezvouses. He just let himself be handled by the other boy, relishing in the feeling of his rough fingers in Ralph's hair and sharp teeth biting at his throat.

"You like that, don't you?" Merridew growled, pulling on his locks and forcefully twisting Ralph's head around, his fingers grabbing at the smaller boy's jaw, before plunging his tongue into Ralph's open mouth. The blond's heart slammed into his thorax, as Merridew worked their mouths, slithering his tongue into warm crevice, and hungrily twisting it around Ralph's tentative one. It was messy and heated and wet, pouring his anger and frustration into it, and the fair boy trembled under the redhead's aggressive mouth.

"You've been a naughty boy" Merridew teased into his lips. One hand went at the front of Ralph's jeans, palming Ralph's bulge, the other sneaked between them, tightly cupping his arse. Ralph let out a gust of shaky breath, along with a half-choked moan. "And naughty boys need to be punished." He ground into Ralph, ramming into him with a force that shook him; leaving him on the bridge of instantly coming. Ralph bucked against the other boy, moving in sync with him, and groaning loud and clear.

"I will have to spank you, naughty boy," Merridew spoke, teeth raking against the side of the fair boy's face and cheek. "And _fuck you_ ," Ralph panted, his erection twitching as he fervently nodded, desperate and begging, his mind covered in a fog of lust.

"Yes," He choked. "Oh, please spank me and fuck me, please," His hair was then pulled at again and he jerked and hissed in hot pain.

"Please,  _master,_ " Merridew rasped in his ear. There was an hesitant air around the fair boy for a moment, an attempt to resist and oppose going so low as to call Merridew that, but he was already being fucked through clothes and begging like a whore for his cock, so he guessed there wasn't much dignity left in him. He was so turned on, that when Merridew violently pushed him into the door for disobeying him and dug his nails into the side of his neck, his mouth simply moved on its own. "Yes,  _please,_   _master_."

Merridew breathed into his hair. "Good boy."

He was lightheaded and not very much aware of what happened in between being pinned by Merridew against the door, and ending up on the bed; then on Merridew's lap, on his stomach, bum sticking in the air. He just knew Merridew had quickly released him out of his clothes, and was now softly palming his rear; sweat started pooling down Ralph's spine, gathering on his navel. The position was so humiliating and shameful, but he couldn't go back even if he tried to, and couldn't even consider it anymore, given how much Merridew was affecting him. "God, you're so beautiful." Merridew hoarsely muttered, kneading the soft, pale skin of his arse with a large hand, causing Ralph to shiver under his palm. "So beautiful, I would just fuck you all day, and torture you to hear you scream in pain and pleasure," Ralph jumped at feeling him lightly spread his cheeks, tremors engulfing him, but Merridew didn't do anything further. Just gave a light kiss on the skin of his lower back, before his palm suddenly smacked his bare arse, hard and precisely, making Ralph squeak.

Merridew hit his bottom again then, two, or three times, or even more. Ralph was writhing under the pain, his hard cock bobbing against his belly and touching Merridew's still clothed thigh, painting it slick with dribbling fluid, while his bum was on fire. He moaned and whimpered with every blow, couldn't stand it anymore, as he thrashed upon Merridew's lap.

"I'm gonna come, Jack, I'm gonna-" He gasped out. Merridew slapped him again, the sound echoing in the room, and the fair boy choked and cried out when Merridew cupped his balls and squeezed.

"Don't come." He ordered harshly, sliding his fingers over Ralph's cock, and tightening his grip, which resulted in a tortured-sounding moan from Ralph. He barely held back from not fucking into Merridew's hand. Just panted heavily and bit his lip, face twisted in agony.

"I'm going to have to punish you for using my name." Merridew silkily spoke in a calculated tone. He hit Ralph's arse again while holding his length, and the other boy half-sobbed at the excruciating feeling.

"Don't-", Ralph struggled, as Merridew kept hitting him there, over and over again, while still tightly gripping his dick to stop him from coming. " _Please_ ," The fair boy cried out.

"Please what?" Merridew insisted, voice rough, slightly teasing. Another slap. Ralph wailed, desperate.

"Please,  _master_ ," He begged. Merridew hit him on the top of his arse one last time, then slid his fingers down to touch Ralph's quivering hole, and the fair boy gasped and thrashed. His hands clenched on Merridew's ankles at feeling him push his fingers inside and his cock almost exploded at the gratifying pain, but then Merridew's hand retreated. Ralph heard him fondle above him with something, before the redhead grabbed at his waist and moved Ralph with ease on the edge of the bed, in the same position; bottom in the air and chest resting on the bed.

Merridew licked a stripe then, from between Ralph's shoulder blades, and lower, until he reached his anus, before circling the tight ring of muscle with his tongue, lapping at it, and the fair boy escaped muffled cries into the soft mattress. "Oh fuck, oh shit," His delirious chants resounded in the room, and Ralph went out of his mind at feeling Merridew's tongue there, right into his  _fucking arse_ ; he attempted to push himself onto the other boy's mouth, but it was suddenly gone, and a discontented sound rumbled in Ralph's throat at the absence of something,  _anything_  in that particular place.

"I'm gonna fuck you now," Merridew warned, voice husky. Ralph heard him shuffle again behind him, and he gasped when the other boy grabbed at his bruised, reddened skin, mercilessly prying his cheeks apart. His chest heaved, his limbs trembling in want and anticipation, and he instinctively pushed his bottom back again. He felt like it took too long.

"Just fucking  _do it_ already," Ralph jeered at him, slightly turning his head in maddening suspense. He somewhat regretted speaking, because Merridew instantly stilled behind him. Ralph whined when the bastard intentionally delayed the act just to torment him, and he thought about turning and extending his arm to grab Merridew by the shirt and pull him inside of him, but Ralph didn't know how it was exactly supposed to be done. He couldn't take Merridew's body into his own. A hand brushed and clenched at the flesh of his abused arse, and he whimpered and squirmed.

"You're a kinky bastard, Foley, aren't you?" Merridew chuckled, mouth in Ralph's hair. "You like being strangled and spanked. What else would you like? Being tied and gagged, maybe? Or fucked raw, without any preparation? I have lube on my dick now, but what would be like if I filled you in dry, just my rough, dry cock into your arse? Would you like the pain?" Ralph groaned at the mental images, being halfway through his orgasm and already convulsing under him. He intended to move backwards again, when Merridew pushed in one swift motion, burying himself to the hilt.

It didn't take more than three, short thrusts for Ralph to come. Merridew didn't even have to touch him anymore, the fair boy just released at the mere sensation of having a hard cock filling him up so crudely. He tensed and arched into the bed, spilling more explosively than he could ever recall, his loud, raspy cries filling the room, before he collapsed against the sheets, messy and spent and sweaty. He continued escaping incoherent sounds at feeling Merridew fucking into him, hands aggressively clutching at Ralph's sides and mouth biting and growling into his shoulder, before he released into Ralph, not much later.

The room went still for one moment, as Merridew collapsed on Ralph's shivering back. All he could hear was their heavy panting filling the air. The silent movement of their heaving chests. Ralph flinched when the redhead softly nuzzled his neck, his chuckles vibrating into his skin.

"Bloody hell. I just fucked the golden boy." He shoved his hips to prove it, driving himself deeper into Ralph, and the blond quivered beneath him, still sensitive. He trailed his hand over Ralph's burning arse, earning another weak moan.

"Stop it." Ralph protested feebly. He tried to get up, but the heavy weight on his back made it impossible. He just moved a little without accomplishing anything, and Merridew chuckled once more, before pulling out. Ralph shivered at the sensation.

His first instinct was to dress as quickly as possible and be gone from that place. He tried to dash for his clothes, but he felt as if his whole body had been beaten. The comparison wasn't far-fetched, given what Merridew had just finished doing to him. He managed in pulling his jeans and shirt on though, and he was about to take his jacket as well, when a hand grabbed at his wrist and stopped his movement. The fair boy looked up to see Merridew's grave expression.

"This isn't the last time we do this, Foley." He commented, his features severely contorted, and icy eyes dangerously slanted. "It's a deal. And you know what will happen if you don't respect this deal." He brought his hand up to caress deceivingly at the fair boy's smooth face, and Ralph inhaled crisply. He stared back, crystal eyes slightly conflicted, but keen all the same.

"I'm aware of it." He rigidly replied. In spite of the great pleasure he'd gotten from having sex with Merridew, he still felt at unease in his presence. There was that vicious and malignant aura he had, especially when he morphed into the person that always sought to threaten and hurt. Not that he particularly hurt Ralph in any way, because there were absolutely no good-natured feelings or closeness between them, apart from the fact that they just wanted to shag each other's brains out. But the threats still somewhat distressed him.

"Good." Merridew responded. "Oh, and I forgot to mention that you should mostly come in through the front door. Going through the back one would rise suspicion in my ever-so curious neighbors." He grinned sardonically and Ralph curled his mouth in discontentment at his own foolishness.

Merridew then released his wrist, and Ralph instantly backed away from him. His initial desire to run as fast as he could from there was faded, but he still found his way out in heavy tension, trying to ignore the dismay that reared inside at the pact he'd just gotten himself in.


	4. Sacrilege

He supposed he had to find it unsettling how little everything that had happened was affecting him. He had imagined that he would be worse than before; his anxiety speeding up, his paranoia grasping at him like the claws of a nightmare, but it wasn't like that. He was even calmer than before the so-called, preposterous deed, than before Merridew had shagged him senseless on the edge of his bed. He reckoned he must have been in a stupor, his mind clogged with some sort of haze, after what they had recently committed.

The discomfort of Merridew being so close to him now, in such a personal sense, remained to a certain potency though. The fact that he was an ambiguous, even downright dubious guy, whose intentions were never clear, still somewhat ate at Ralph, but even this feeling was not as intense as he had believed it would be. He knew Merridew could change his mind in an instant about the whole wager, but given how he had been the one who'd instigated everything, Ralph highly doubted it now. He was almost as excited about this newfound pact between them as Ralph himself was, if not even more; though Ralph couldn't measure the intensity of each one's elation on this matter, he was fairly sure Merridew had a lot in mind regarding their appropriation.

The fair boy closed his eyes and exhaled, trying to come to his senses. He didn't want to have another wave of arousal hit him right then. It was the early morning of a Sunday, and Sundays meant one thing: his father was home, which resulted in their early breakfast meeting to make up for his weekly absence. He pushed on his hands and tried to get out of his bed in the usual manner, but was stopped by the acute pain that struck his entire body, clenching it in a numbing grip. The most prominent stab was in the lower back of his neck, and naturally, in his goddamn arse. And it wasn't just in one place. His whole bottom felt like it had been beaten to a bloody pulp, and the overwhelming sensation was an impediment to his movement. The absurdity was, that as unpleasant as it should have been for any other person, this of course sent not-so-unpleasant chills through his whole body, and sent him on the brink of having another sudden boner. Ralph shook his head, trying to clear his mind.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

He mentally gave himself a dose of disapproval and frowned at the whole prospect he now found himself in. It was one thing to be masochistic – he had finally realized that he was indeed this - but it was another thing to be constantly stimulated by every discomfort in his body.

He had researched that masochists had a few, main kinds of pain that they enjoyed; Ralph had a hunch that his most endearing one was having a hand tightening around his neck, until he couldn't breathe and see and think. He hadn't found any case in which the respective person was turned on even by traces of past-inflicted harm though. He pondered the possibility of indeed having a mental problem in this sense, but shook it off.

Even if it was actually true, he didn't want to meditate upon it. He tried to push it at the back of his mind, and not give importance to it, not as long as it didn't interfere with his daily, normal schedule. He tried to tell himself that the fact that he was now having an unorthodox affair with another boy in school was just the start of a rebellious adolescence, just a tempestuous experience that he was passing through. So maybe he was queer, but that could be solved later, when he had to seriously consider finding a lifelong partner. He could claim he was just going through a temporary state of confusion. Merridew was the only bloke he had ever been attracted to anyway, so it had to do something with Merridew himself.

Maybe because Ralph had always been somewhat drawn to him, in spite of the entire violent history they had together. Merridew was a fascinating person, and Ralph felt that he'd always wanted to interact with him in one way or another, ever since their first friendship attempt. Maybe because Merridew was the one who'd gotten away from Ralph in the first place; that could have been the reason he had this odd fixation on him.

Even though he sensed that it was almost impossible to get close to him again, from a friendship point of view. They could have shagged as much as they wanted; it still appeared unnatural to Ralph that they would become close in any other way, not with how different they were, not with Merridew's maliciousness surfacing in every gesture and spoken word. Ralph couldn't accept being friends with such a person now, despite that there was that deep-rooted interest towards him.

He tried to get Merridew out of his mind for the umpteenth time, before he pushed aside the numbing pain and focused on what he had to do. Smoothing his frazzled hair and arranging his rumpled nightshirt would have to be the obligatory routine, especially because of the following father-son encounter. It wasn't that he cared too much about it, since his father himself wasn't too strict when it came to their meetings- but there still was that vague trace of respect in their relationship. They would converse as normally as possible, and even if slight altercations surfaced, they died down as quickly as they rose.

The fair boy let out a heavy breath, before heading towards the stairs, a bit too hurried, just as hurried he was to end it.

His father was at the dining table, as always. Had the custom to take all of his meals in the main room, apparently set on observing the changes that had occurred in his absence. He did it because of a certain curiosity regarding his son, not because he was especially keen on scolding Ralph on account of any potential damage. His father was quite casual on this side- rarely reproved Ralph or had any specific expectations of him. The fair boy took notice of his tired, opaque gaze, apparently dispirited by the lack of commotion in the house. He fixed the opposite wall of the room, which was still impeccable, the only unaesthetic aspect being the old, eaten by time, floral tapestry, a reminder of his mother.

 _Sorry to disappoint you, dad,_ The bitter thought flashed through his head. Everything was in perfect order, because he rarely hung out at home. Even though his father had assigned Hannah, the old, perfectly nice lady who tried with all her might to keep Ralph under surveillance as best as she could during the week, he couldn't be kept there for more than a couple of hours; not until night came anyway. During the week, he was at school, before crashing up at one of his friends' houses. Mostly Peter's, since the twins were rarely at home themselves, and Simon invited them over even more rarely. Or they just decided to hang out at one of their most frequented places – the shop that belonged to Peter's family, or a random pub in the town.

At the week's end, Hannah was dismissed, before his father finally decided to spend some time with him. Ralph tried in earnest to understand him. His father had to financially support them after all, but he still couldn't completely break the solid wall that had built itself between them ever since his mother's death. There had been years since then, but sometimes the incident still felt as if it had recently taken place, which was why the air seemed to get too dense at times.

The fair boy took the opposite, vacant seat, in front of a bowl filled to the brim with corn flakes. There was no specific sound that got his attention for good moments. Just the slight clinking of glass and cutlery over polished plate, his father taking his early breakfast in steady silence. He could have perceived it as somewhat comforting, if it wasn't for the weight of his father's stare, which was, for an unknown reason, studying him intently. The fair boy lifted his head to meet his eyes, strikingly similar to his own, but too different when it came to the glint that each possessed. His father's were too downcast, too exhausted. Too struck by old repentance.

"So you ready for the morning trip to church, lad?" His father offered him a friendly half-smile, an attempt to make pleasant conversation. His attempt was for Ralph though like a heavy branch hitting him in the head. He had completely forgotten. It had downright, utterly, even shockingly slipped out of his mind, especially because of everything that had recently turned his life upside down. He was conscious that he must have remained stuck with his mouth open, his whole body tense, as if he had turned into a stony replica.

"I just-" He started, trying to find excuses for him not going to church that Sunday. He was in the least disposition to visit that place, especially after what he'd gotten himself involved in; beyond redemption too, and the realization was too gripping to bear.

It was too soon. Too early. He had to get used to the situation first, in order to gather the courage and finally step into that sacred place again. He had been so enthusiastic by the whole pact, that he'd completely forgotten that what he'd committed with Merridew went against all morals, all principles, everything that was proper in the world.

He also couldn't go there especially because Merridew was almost always present, along with his bloody choir mates, parading like he was the ruler of the universe, in his sodding robe; like he was the new pastor ready to absolve all people of their sins. It was so contrasting and paradoxical, it would be amusing, if it didn't disturb Ralph to such levels. Merridew was like the devil himself and he had been in the church's service for years.

In fact, ever since Ralph knew him, he had been assigned as one of the top choir boys in school, and sent to sing for every Sunday ceremony held in their town. Though in the last couple of years, Ralph had noticed that his presence on the platform had diminished considerably, he couldn't help but remark him every time he occasionally made his appearance.

Fortunately, Merridew usually abstained himself from attacking Ralph and his friends there. After all, their parents were assisting at the ceremony, so it was somewhat difficult for Merridew's pack to bully them. Difficult, but not impossible. There had been a few occasions when they'd managed to corner them without the intervention of adults.

The fair boy gritted his teeth as it came to him that he had to find excuses from then on, excuses for his weekly absence from church, but his mind was still. He didn't know what excuses he could have found, and the fact that he was going to miss spending more of the little time he had at disposition with his father was even more consuming.

He couldn't believe his ears when his father's chuckles abruptly echoed in the large room.

"Oh, you don't have to be so desperate, Ralph," He shook his head, apparently amused by the whole internal struggle Ralph was visibly showing. He paused, his eyes darting over Ralph's attire, before landing on his face. "The fact that you've gotten yourself a sweetheart is not the end of the world, and not the end of your spiritual life either." Ralph's eyes widened, his heart pounding with nearly sickening speed. How was that possible? Had Merridew revealed their affair? It had to be something else, his father was too cheery about it, which was highly unusual. He wouldn't have been glad about his son having that sort of interaction with another bloke. And yet, there he was. Bright and enthusiastic, like Ralph had finally settled his normal love life.

"You have to be more careful with the spots, though," The older man motioned to his own neck, in order to hint Ralph what gave him away in the first place.

Of course. Merridew had left a bite mark at the base of his neck, which was the reason his skin there was distressingly tender and hurtful. His father most certainly thought that Ralph had finally found a female partner, from the way he could barely hold his contentment. Although Ralph felt as if he was too strained under the man's observing gaze, he cleared his throat, wiping his sweaty, almost trembling hands on his night pants, under the table, the perfect excuse now prepared.

"But you must surely know, dad, I can't go now, especially not with this horrendous sign on my neck. I mean, everyone will see and-"

His father raised his hand to stop him, eyes closed and a small smile on his face.

"Nonsense," He paused and took one sip of the morning tea. Ralph felt his pulse thrumming, as he swallowed thickly. He couldn't face Merridew so soon, and not in that place. And yet, he was sure he was going to be persuaded by his father who was unknowingly putting him in this nerve-racking situation.

"We have a few scarves around here, just perfect for this day. It's not very warm apparently, a bit cloudy too, so your scarf will be quite fitting." He smiled lightly, his eagerness regarding this new discovery about his son now radiating from him.

It wasn't the same for Ralph, though. It was certain his father would sooner or later inquire about this newly acquired 'female sweetheart' of his, which brought his deeply-buried anxiety to the surface once more. He had to think of a lie again, which was all he seemed to be doing lately. Lying to his friends first, and now lying to his own father. Ralph wasn't used to such vile acts, he had barely told a couple of lies in his whole life, and they were mostly for not-too-grave situations. He wasn't even used to do it, and yet that was all he could think about right then.

The fact that he wanted that affair with Merridew had turned him into a depraved bastard, even more perverted than he already was. It had turned him into someone akin to Merridew himself. And he desperately told himself it was mostly Merridew's doing in the first place. So maybe he had proved he was queer when they fought that day, but Merridew could have left him alone in this matter. They could have continued beating the shit out of each other and that was it. No camera scene, no Merridew accosting him for this illicit fling between them.

His stomach swayed in anger once again, even though he knew it was useless. It was useless getting angry about a thing that was already committed. A thing that he still wanted, despite that it made his insides, _his_ _mind_ burn.

"I'll just have to get ready then," Ralph muttered, feeling as if his words were being pulled out of his mouth by pliers.

"You do that. I'll wait here, lad." Was the short reply of his father, before Ralph ended up flying up the stairs, the idea of barricading himself in his own room seriously passing through his head. He knew he couldn't do it, because he couldn't have found any plausible excuse for it. And he didn't want to cause his father any more pressure. He already had enough distress from their current living circumstances.

Down below though, the older man pensively regarded the bowl of cereal, left untouched by the boy, which was one of the most unusual acts he'd seen from his side in some of the recent years. Ralph had always been eager for his meals, and the refusal of them, albeit indirect, was concerning. Even though his mother had died years before, the shock was mostly over, from what he'd seen, which meant something else was troubling him. And it was something that it had to be taken into his notice as quickly as possible.

…

One of the most important encounters with his mother flashed through his mind vividly – Ralph could still see the look on her face, the deep remorse she displayed at the sight of her suffering son. At the fact that she couldn't do anything to alleviate his pain. She stroked the bundle of pale, soft hair at the top of his head, whispering kind words to him, but unable to stop the tears that flooded the small boy's crimson cheeks, and her blue, floral dress, his face buried into her stomach. His small arms tightly held onto her waist, like he sought to disappear under her wing and never face the newly found wickedness of the world that he was part of, ever again.

"What's the matter, hun?" Her soothing voice reached his ears, calming the storm of feelings inside, but strangely nurturing it at the same time.

He looked up, face splotched with red and eyes glassy, tears flickering on his fair lashes.

"H-he is not my friend anymore, mum," He sniffed, words swallowed by hiccups. "He is terrible. Awful. I-I should have never played with him."

The fair woman looked down on him, pale green eyes focused and face slightly contorted in misunderstanding, until a light washed over her features.

"Do you mean Jack?" The boy nodded, a deep relief at how his mother instantly recognized his first and most important friendship.

"Oh, Ralph," She deeply exhaled and tightened the hug, tucking the tiny, yellow clump under her chin and softly rubbing his back up and down. "It's always Jack, isn't it?" A tightness overcame him, a bizarre sensation of befuddlement and fear. It was like she was aware of something about him, something that he couldn't grasp. He tentatively looked up again.

„W-what do you mean?" Her expression was airy, almost meditative, as she shared his perplexed gaze.

"I've seen you cry because of him before." She gently explained, fingers twining through golden tresses. "I know you've had your quarrels and that boys often have their typical fights, which I know can end in bruises, and I've always believed that these child fights must work out on their own," She offered him a wry, but humorous look to lighten the mood, "But it's truly difficult for me to see you cry so thoroughly for what he's doing to you." She knitted her brow. "Children are not supposed to cry, and even if they do, it should be after they fall and scrap their knees." She slightly withdrew and brought his face up, caressing the tear-streaked cheeks. "You're suffering too much and it's not alright."

The finality of the words knocked against the fair boy's chest. It was puzzling, but the knowing, concerned glint in his mother's eyes reassured him that she knew better about his cause. The fact that he provoked her pain while expressing his own in such an open manner was making him want to shut himself down and never let her see him cry again. He was supposed to be strong, he was a boy, and he would become a man one day, and boys weren't expected to cry. They had to be steel-like and secure, they weren't allowed to show their weaknesses.

In spite of all those, the more he pondered over those expectations, the more he wanted to bawl and hide in his mother's arms. It was impossible for him not to cry over his lost friend. Maybe Jack had done harm to him, but he had still been his first best friend, he had still been nice to him at times, and taught him things that he hadn't known; they'd shared great moments, and it was difficult to accept that they weren't going to hang out anymore.

There were bits when Ralph yearned to go to him and tell him he would forgive him for what he'd done, but then the memory of Jack pushing him to the hard floor and bruising him returned too quickly, too painfully, which put an end to all those intentions.

He had his own childish pride, and the fear was even stronger. The fear that Jack would react the same as the last time, if Ralph returned and tried to make up. The fear of Jack committing even worse things, of Jack actually, truly beating him if he attempted an approach, of Jack rejecting him and wickedly laughing in his face, calling him all sorts of names. The fear was always stronger than anything, it slashed through his heart and his thoughts, and it paralyzed him, stopped him from acting on his deepest wishes. His sudden stillness must have caught his mother's attention, as she brought him to reality again.

"Did he beat you again, Ralph?" The grave concern, almost repressed anger in her voice was enough to make him flinch in distress, at her tone of protectiveness, but even more, at her question. He let out a trembling exhale, slowly shaking his head.

"No, mum. He has never beaten me. This was his first attempt, but he has never tried to do it before." There was a flash of wonder in his mother's open expression, her unusual, sudden harshness slightly fading away, but her brow still knitted in a tense frown.

"But all those times you cried, why…" She trailed off bemused, a new curiosity grasping at her tone.

"It's because he always hangs out with Roger." Ralph felt his eyes going blurry again. "It's his new friend, and ever since Roger came, he has completely forgotten about me." He looked away, although he knew it was futile; he could feel the tremble in his voice rising up, as he looked at the garden surrounding them, at the neatly trimmed hedgerow, at the soft rays passing through the tangle of green and purple and pink that blended into the crowns of the magnolias from above.

"There are always solutions, Ralph," She spoke, trying to instil hope into him. "You can also make new friends." She paused and Ralph could hear in her voice that there was a sincere keenness regarding this alternative, which fuelled some sort of burning feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew she wanted the best for him, so she would have wanted Ralph to make other friends. People other than Jack, who was both consciously and unconsciously hurting him. "If Jack doesn't know how to value your friendship, that doesn't mean there aren't boys who are willing to be your friends."

Ralph wanted to tell her that no other friends could have replaced Jack, he wanted to shout and tear up and explain how nothing could have been the same, that the other boys were kind and smart and taught him a lot, but they still didn't make Ralph laugh and smile the way Jack did, they weren't as exciting, they didn't fire the eagerness and joy and anticipation of hanging with them.

"I know, mum," He retorted, his voice strained and deceived, "I made a couple of friends in my class and they're very nice." He paused, his breath hitching, "But they're not Jack." He pursed his lips, feeling the warm tears on them. "I have to accept what I have now though, cause Jack hates me. He hates me cause he's become wicked and he likes to hurt me."

It seemed unfair, almost. Unfair to him, and unfair to Peter and Simon. Because they were so much better than Jack had ever been, and yet he still wanted Jack, due to some mocking twist of fate. A light hand fell on his back, gathering his attention. The fair boy's pale eyes lifted to see his mother rip off a sunny daisy from the nearest tangle of flowers, and his breath got stuck for a moment; it was out of place for her to rip flowers from their garden, or any flowers ever, because she loved them too much. She'd always said how flowers were the cure of the sight and spirit, so they should never be tainted, not even touched. Flowers were the most precious possession of the cruel world in which they lived.

Which was why it was even more shocking to see her starting to slowly pry its petals off, one by one, her gaze forlorn and tender, as she quietly murmured what Ralph could perceive to be the melody of a lullaby. When she finished tearing the flower off, until nothing clothed the bright, yellow bump anymore, she gently placed the remains on the darkened ground. The melody flowing from her carried the heavy weight of sadness now and Ralph's heart ached at the sound. The gestures were confusing to him, but he didn't interrupt her. He felt like they held a meaning, some sort of purpose, and when she looked up, he could see the green in her eyes hued by guilt.

"I loved the daisy. I loved her, and yet I still hurt her, Ralph." She took his small hand in her own and squeezed it tenderly. "Sometimes we hurt the ones we like or care about, without intention. Other times, we do it with intention, but for a greater purpose. But most of the time, we just do it. What I know is," The fair boy looked up at her, at her expression that held a great intensity and determination; he searched her with round, curious eyes, and her comfort offered him wondrous relief. But what relieved him the most, at that moment, were her words.

"He doesn't hate you. Be sure of that."

…

Songs rolled in the vast, cold space of the church, tens of voices that echoed in unison, like calls in a well; they were so delightful to listen to, that the fair boy almost forgot about the intense aversion he had towards the owners of the voices.

They were all lined up on the podium, clothed in those almost sinister robes, instigating in him an eerie discomfort, as if they were about to surround him and hoist him up to forcefully take him to some kind of sacrificing ritual. Light peered through the sharply cut, coloured glass of the tall windows, falling on the their pallid faces, encasing them in a surreal light, almost offering them an angelic image that could have been named blasphemous by the people who actually knew what was truly hiding behind those masks of society.

Peter slightly fidgeted next to him, and Ralph could feel his tremors, could notice the droplets of sweat that trailed down his temples, in spite of the fact that they were seated in some of the last rows, a considerable distance away from the pack's hellish presence, and accompanied by their families.

"In all honesty though," The plump boy whispered to Ralph in a strained tone of voice, "I've never really understood how Simon could handle their presence." Ralph lifted his eyes to see their small friend prompted between Roger Black and William Wendell, or as the pack called him, Bill, a tall, imposing, fair bloke, who had a perilous allure and a dominance that could be compared to Merridew's. Talbot and the other shorter, simpler-in-appearance lad seemed a tad more approachable and light-hearted compared to Black and Wendell, who were some of the most vicious acquisitions of Merridew's.

Speaking of Merridew, there was also the unsettling fact that Ralph could find no trace of him among the other choir boys. Merridew usually stood at the front, leading the whole procession with an infuriating arrogance, but this time, he was nowhere to be seen. The oddity was the fact that Merridew's parents were present, right in the first row as always, after a particular period of absence. Ralph knew this day must have meant something for them, given that the arsehole's snobbish family had finally decided to make their appearance. So what was going to be? Was he going to repeat his psalms for the one hundred and second time?

Ralph almost wanted to snort at his own thought, when Peter gathered his attention.

"So there's Roger Black and Maurice Talbot, William Wendell and Robert Carlson; the whole bleeding pack, but no Jack Merridew. I mean, I know he kind of missed the recent wolf meetings, since they bullied us lately without him, but I've at least expected that devil to join them here. Looks like he's caught up more arrogance, ever since the new position, which I didn't believe it was possible for Merridew."

Ralph's heart nipped at his ribs, as he curiously gaped at his friend.

"What position?"

Peter looked at him like he was out of his mind for not knowing. The exchange was brief, but it was enough to prod into Ralph's conscience, to make him squirm inwardly. He tried to remain impassive on the outside though. Peter turned away as he breathed into the cold air, the small puffs swirling in the vaguely blue glow that was trespassing the church's glass.

"He's helping the pastor now. Like a right hand in training." Peter muttered stiltedly. "Current church boy, but future priest." His mouth curled downwards in slight revulsion, "Just think about it, he will actually be addressed to as _father Merridew_. It sounds profane, like the highest form of mockery sent from above." He pursed his lips before he proceeded to carry on his scandalized rant, but Ralph's hearing stopped there.

There was only the melody of the choir now, flowing into his ears, louder and louder, gradually turning into a screeching, the screeching of the boys, of his own voice inside his head, as his lips parted to catch more air, in an attempt to find stability. His sight was hazy, as a veil of dizziness fell over him, and he was grateful at the moment for the fact that he was seated, because he would have fallen to the ground otherwise.

The choir was a blur, just as the rest of the picture. No people seemed to exist anymore in that place, just the cold; the cold that was getting starker, deeper, seeping into his bones and marring his core, plaguing him. If he'd had doubts before of a possible damnation, now he was absolutely sure of it. He was forever incarcerated into the chains of this sin, he was damned to hell and more of it. Damned to live with the knowledge that he'd had sexual relations with a disciple of the church at one point in his life.

He desperately tried to console himself with the idea that Merridew was the one who'd tricked him. Had dragged him into all of this while knowing it at the time, despite that Ralph hadn't been aware of it.

Merridew was the devil, Ralph had no doubt anymore. He tightened his fists with all his might as the bastard made his appearance in the middle of the ceremony. Climbing on the stairs behind the priest like a guardian, with an absolute tranquillity, steady feet and proud stance, and he looked even fiercer, dressed all in black, from head-to-toe. His robe was different from the other boys' this time. While the choir uniform consisted of a black one-piece, covered by a smaller, white garment in which a pale golden cross was embroidered, Merridew had no white this time. Just black, an almost disturbing contrast with the pallor of his face. It rather made him look like a monk, than a church boy.

He wasn't smiling though, to Ralph's fade bewilderment. There was pride, clearly embedded into his expression, but it was more like a cold pride. Judgemental, even aggressive, daring anyone to defy him. His eyes glinted when they fell on his parents, placed in the first row. Ralph could feel their fulfillment, the gratitude they had for their son, for his absolute ascent to the top of the social scale, while most boys their age didn't have the slightest idea about the future they wanted. Ralph himself had no idea, he was just drifting along with a tumultuous current. Let himself be carried aimlessly, while Merridew already had an iron grip on his life and was shaping it with his own hands.

He saw his parents nodding in approval, and Merridew's lips just barely twitched, before he molded his face into stony passiveness once again. He took his place behind the priest like a shadow, a shadow that would occupy that spot in front of it, one day.

Ralph couldn't pay attention, he was just aware of the major stages of the ceremony; the choir singing their final song, before the priest started his lecture. It didn't last much, because he slightly backed away to let Merridew step to the front of the podium and continue the lecture, which was like a hit in the stomach for Ralph.

He knew it'd been about to happen, but hadn't thought it would enfold so quickly. He had still had the vaguest belief that Merridew wasn't actually in that position yet, but then there he was. Preaching in all his righteousness, as if he'd prepared his whole life for it. His voice was secure, it was clear and thunderous, it echoed in the whole church, reaching every corner. It was as if he was made for it and the fair boy felt struck by the cruelty of it.

Ralph couldn't unglue his stare from him, couldn't look anywhere else, as Merridew strictly kept on to the protocol, carving the silence with religious texts and prayers, the words scratching at Ralph's sanity. Merridew didn't flinch as he was holding the discourse, rows and rows of teachings, the sermon seeming interminable by that point. His gaze was unabashedly examining the church hall, every face that watched him, and their eyes inevitably met for a few moments; Merridew's mouth slightly quirked in a barely noticeable smile, his eyes heinously gleaming, and Ralph felt the knot in his throat drop into his stomach. He couldn't stand the atrocity anymore. Without excusing himself, he just let himself out before half of the ceremony was even over.

The sound of his steps rumbled against the walls, as he hastened to escape that place. A heavy grey was cloaking the sky, and he felt the curtain of drops whipping his face. Still, the rain was slight and bearable, so he didn't need a cover for himself.

He could have gone home. He didn't though, because he knew he had to wait for his father. Ralph had no intention of going back inside, so he ended up sliding into the alleyway on the right side of the church; a tight, dark space, limited by the church's eastern side and a solid brick wall that surrounded the building, shielded by a couple of massive trees. The drops still reached him, but much less now, so he just shoved his hands into his armpits in a weak attempt to warm himself, as he waited.

Everything seemed to take too long. He was too shaken up by all the events that had collided into him, by this chain of bad luck that continuously trailed after him, especially in the last years. There was his mother's death, a memory that he'd thought he'd mostly let go of, but then Merridew had to break into his life in this contemptible manner.

Ralph had to tell him to leave him alone, once and for all. He had to. He couldn't have continued that depraved relation between them, especially since Merridew had serious intentions of becoming a pastor in the future. He could have fooled around with whomever he wanted, but not him. Ralph wasn't going to allow Merridew to mock him in such a way; wasn't going to let him ridicule his mental health, dignity and most of all, his faith.

The fright grew into his soul once again, as he thought of Merridew's revenge, but Ralph was quite sure the devil wouldn't have exposed him. He knew his words were empty, they were just a petty form of manipulation, in order to make Ralph bend to him. He wouldn't have done it, because Merridew's reputation would have been tainted as well; suspicions always surfaced, no matter what proof Merridew had.

"Aren't you cold here, all by yourself?"

He paled as icy panic slithered into him, a cold that wasn't like the one that seized the air at the time, but a winter-like cold, that froze the blood in his veins. The fair boy quickly swirled towards the source of the voice, attempting to calm his breath as he saw him there. Leaning under a flimsy alcove, against the shape of a door that Ralph hadn't noticed earlier, a black silhouette against the dim, washed out wall of the church.

Merridew offered him his sly half-grin, before he brought his hands to his mouth and Ralph was confused for a moment, but then he saw the flame bursting into Merridew's hands and the slim outline of the cigarette, which instilled even more outrage into his gut.

"Do you really have to mock everything the better side of humanity stands for?" The fair haired boy pondered aloud, bitterness and resentment engraved into his voice. Merridew raised a dark eyebrow, before he exhaled a pale cloud into the misty air.

"Do you mean the fact that I'm smoking while I'm wearing my cassock?" He retorted with an impish humour. Ralph wasn't exactly sure if 'cassock' meant the black robe that he was currently wearing, but Merridew confirmed his guess soon enough.

"Not to worry, I'm not going back in there. My training is done for today, and I don't have to wait for my parents, since, you know, I'm capable of returning home by myself." He flashed the white of his teeth, before he put the deathly stick between his lips once again, taking a long, deep, satisfying drag, which irked Ralph even more. It was as if he was putting a show just to spite him. Which he probably did.

"So no one will smell it on me." Merridew leisurely carried on, then exhaled the smoke as his frosted gaze fixed Ralph. "Except for you."

The fair boy's lips tightened and he furrowed his brow, his nails digging into his sweaty palms.

"It's over." He tremulously articulated. "You lied to me, you didn't tell me you were choosing this path." He felt the rain slashing at his face harder now, biting at his skin, as if trying to reach within him, to torment him along with Merridew's scornful stare.

"Should I have told you?" Merridew wasn't smiling anymore. He took another inhale from his cigarette. "Why? It has no point. The fact that I'm fucking you has nothing to do with my social life. They are two completely different sides and they will never have any connection." The sheer, cold indifference that he exposed on this matter bothered Ralph. What bothered him more though was that he wasn't sure whether Merridew's lack of regard was offending him or not.

"So you have no respect for this vocation, for anything that this religion imposes, for the fact that so many people will put their faith in you? Do you even a conscience?" Ralph inquired irritably. He had even the reached the point where he was almost sure that Merridew didn't actually have a conscience.

Merridew's mouth curled upwards again, his pale face like a derisive mask against the dark background.

"Oh, but you know I love rules, golden boy. I especially love crafting rules after my own will," Another inhale, "That is why I will allow myself to have a few fucks once in a while, in spite of the profession I have chosen." He took one last swing, before he let the fag hit the wet pavement and stomped on it with an elegant, black shoe to put it down.

Merridew then dug his hands into the folds of his robe as he silently measured Ralph with an intense, heated gaze. Ralph sensed his heart pounding harder and he took a step back, but didn't make any other move. He could have simply turned and walked away, but he knew he didn't actually want to do it, because there still was that pulsing in his core. That pulsing that always made him yield to Merridew's ungodly ways. Merridew narrowed his sharp eyes, his smirk widening.

"Does it turn you on?" He shamelessly inquired and Ralph's breath hitched at the question. "Seeing me in these robes?" The redhead continued with an unscrupulous amusement. "Would you like to suck my cock while I'm dressed like this?"

The fair boy's face flushed as Merridew slowly descended the stairs beneath the alcove and went out into the open air, the slight rain now sticking his fiery hair to his forehead, painting it in a dark red. He seemed even taller in his robe, and Ralph instinctively took another small step back. He tried to say something in an attempt to repel him, but Merridew was too self-assured, too immovable in his intentions.

He stopped in front of Ralph and watched him with an ardour that burned Ralph and thoroughly disarmed him. Softened him until he couldn't hold his ground anymore. He couldn't give up on what they'd started, despite that half of him wanted it. But the other half was stronger, it was steadily fed by Merridew's wicked nature, by the temptations that he constantly laid out for him.

Every look that Merridew sent his way, every little touch was too much for Ralph. He could have protested and screamed, but no muscle in his body moved for that purpose. He just let Merridew reach out and touch the sides of his waist, rubbing his thumbs into the divots of Ralph's hips. He let Merridew pin him to the solid wall behind him, let him grind into him through their clothes like two animals in heat, let him claim his mouth and push his tongue into Ralph's mouth with a hunger that frightened but warmed him all the same.

He heard his own broken gasps, a small touch of the reality that surrounded him, a reality that could have struck them both when they least expected it, but it didn't matter right then. All that mattered was the outline of Merridew's cock pushing into his own, his mouth that tasted like cigarettes, Merridew whispering foul words into his ears, before biting the shell with his teeth, dragging a rough hand over the shape of Ralph's cock through his trousers.

"Would you like me to take you right here, like the little slut you are?" His words were appalling and humiliating, but it made Ralph's cock ache, it made him moan and open his legs wantonly and bring them over Merridew's sides. Merridew grabbed his thighs and lifted him with ease into the wall, before he crushed their fronts, rutting into him with a cruel desperation. "Want me to bend you over and fuck you till you cry?" He growled into his neck, taking his scarf off and revealing the previous mark, still pulsing in a deep shade of purple over smooth skin. Ralph wept and hollered as Merridew bit into the same spot, before lapping his tongue over the wound and repeating the motion.

He then opened his robes and undid the belt of his trousers to release his erection and tugged at Ralph's pants and undergarments down his hips, before bringing their cocks together. The heat was too much. It was like pure fire in the middle of the cold that gripped them, and he opened his mouth and brought his head back into the wall, gasping at the feel of Merridew's cock sliding against his own. He felt starved, like he needed more, more of his touch, more of him. He needed to feel his hand around his neck, needed him inside again.

"Please fuck me," He stammered, out of his mind, "Fuck me and choke me, _please_ ," He whimpered, grinding himself harder against Merridew's cock. Merridew grunted and brutally pushed back into him, his movement coarse and precise, then stopped and tugged at Ralph's damp hair, dragging his head back.

"No." He viciously muttered into his jaw, his tongue and teeth flickering against his skin. "I want you to crave my cock. I want you to want me so badly, that it's all you'll ever dream about." He sucked, bending the fair boy's neck even further, and Ralph felt his dick leak at the pain. "That's why I will not fuck you this time," He rumbled, "I will let you hunger for it, hunger until you'll be a needy mess."

Ralph keened and panted as Merridew opened the upper buttons of his robe and pulled out his tie. In a swift move, he fastened it around Ralph's throat and tightened it until he could barely breathe, before he savagely turned him around and shoved him into the wall again.

"I'll give you just a touch of it," Merridew whispered into his ear, then tugged at the tie and started choking him, and Ralph's moans were swallowed by his gasps for air. Merridew's breath was hot on the side of his face before he pulled at Ralph's jacket and shirt to expose more skin and plunged his teeth into the joining of his neck and shoulder, etching another bruise into him.

The hold around his neck abruptly lessened, to his slight disappointment, but then the crass sound of Merridew spitting into his hand reached his ears. He groaned as he felt Merridew's cock, wet with precome, rubbing against the cleft of his arse, and his spit-wet fingers smoothing against the flesh of his inner thigh, knuckles brushing his balls.

Ralph cried out and let his head drop as he shuddered, bracing himself against the wall by his forearms. He forced his arse back in impatience and he heard Merridew's vile laugh, his fingers jabbing into Ralph's sides to bring him closer again.

"Always so eager, my little sunshine," Ralph shivered at his tone of voice, and he gave another moan when Merridew slid his cock leisurely down the curve of his arse, pushing it between his thighs, the head snagging at his testicles. He pressed his chest into Ralph's back, grabbing at the tie with force and twisting Ralph's neck; making him arch into him.

"Clench your thighs." He ordered. Ralph obeyed and brought his knees together, trapping Merridew's cock in between his legs, and then they were moving and groaning in unison, and it almost felt like he was riding Merridew, _almost_. He yearned to be filled, but the firm grasp on his throat was still so good, and his eyes fluttered into the back of his head as he was caught between Merridew's cock between his thighs, Merridew's hand working his own cock at the front and the tightness around his neck.

"Good boy," Merridew grumbled into his hair, his grip faltering for a moment, as he rubbed his dick against Ralph's hole, and the fair boy trembled and struggled to stay upright. His head swam at the quick vision of Merridew suddenly shoving his cock into his arsehole, already sore from their previous fuck. But he didn't do it and it was almost driving him mad.

"Such good boy," Merridew repeated like a mantra, rubbing harder, _deeper_ , pulling at the tie more fiercely with each thrust. "I'd fill you up _so good_ ," He murmured, nibbling at Ralph's exposed shoulder while bringing his other hand to roughly spread his arse cheeks and push against him with force. "I'd come in you so hard you'd overflow. You'd be _dripping_ , is that what you want, my precious golden boy?"

A weak sound barely slipped out of Ralph's mouth, the tie around his neck now cutting all of his air. He felt his release coming too quickly, too messily again, and Merridew realized it too, so he grabbed Ralph's dick to stop his inevitable orgasm. The fair boy thrashed and writhed as he escaped broken sobs. He couldn't believe he was doing that to him for the second time.

"Shh," Merridew whispered into the side of his face, "You need to learn to control yourself better," He slowed down his pace, gripping Ralph's dick and strangling him at the same time, which was the highest form of torture. He tried to shove Merridew's hand away from his cock, but the redhead's grip just got tighter, which made Ralph scratch his nails into the other boy's wrist.

"I'm going to come first this time." Merridew stated mercilessly, before he started rubbing himself in between Ralph's thighs. It was unbearable. The combined stimulus of a bind around his neck and the friction of a cock in between his arse cheeks; and then there was Merridew who was groaning and grunting in his ear as he got off of Ralph's body. He felt tears wetting his face as he was about to explode while still having Merridew's hand tightly clenched around his erection.

Merridew came after what seemed like a long, agonizing period to the fair boy, streaking his inner thighs with his seed. It was a strange feeling, different from the one of him coming inside, and it destroyed Ralph. Merridew's grasp wavered in the midst of his orgasm and Ralph finally managed to push his hand away from his cock, in order to release himself. He instantly came; painfully, too painfully, panting and whining and blatantly crying, heedless of how pathetic and _wet_ he looked.

He rested his forehead on the damp brick wall as he tried to regain some of the last pieces of his rationality. That had been wild. _Indecent and lewd. Sinful._ He felt Merridew receding from him, leaving him cold, shaking and suddenly aware that he was still mostly dressed. The rain appeared to have become heavier, and the cold quickly trickled into his bones.

"God, I hate you." He mumbled, leaning his forehead into the crook of his arm. Merridew gave a low chuckle, and Ralph felt a pair of cold lips shortly latching onto his neck.

"I know."

He startled when Merridew pressed some soft fabric between his legs, efficiently cleaning him up, and Ralph turned his head in time to see him stuffing the random handkerchief into some hidden pocket of his robe. He grimaced, but didn't say anything. The weirder thing was how Merridew then pulled the tangle of Ralph's trousers and undergarments up, tucking him back in smartly, as if he was fussing over him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ralph snapped at him and Merridew stopped and narrowed his eyes.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting rid of the evidence of our very interesting escapade from behind the church." He retorted cynically. Ralph huffed, before pulling away as if Merridew was suddenly burning him.

"I can tuck myself back in." He retorted with indignation. Merridew incredulously stared at him for a moment.

"Suit yourself." He grimly replied, then smoothed the folds of his disheveled robe, as Ralph finished buttoning up his own pants while glaring at him in distrust. As he checked on his clothes, he realized he was soaked.

Merridew briefly hovered and looked like he wanted to say something. His previous perverse amusement seemed to have faded away, allowing only a somber detachment to linger on his face.

"Good thing I have precise knowledge of the duration of these sermons, because we've finished just in time." An oddly forced smile quickly passed over Merridew's harsh features, before he returned to his cheerless mood. "So I reckon I'll see you in school this week." With that, he simply turned and disappeared through the side door of the church, leaving a slightly obfuscated Ralph to stare at the wall.

He knitted his brow in aggravation at Merridew's bizarre reactions and bipolar attitude. He had waited for the tosser to give him an insight on their next meeting. Instead he simply fled like a thief after a precarious robbery, he had just abandoned Ralph there after humping him like a brute. He couldn't say he hadn't expected Merridew to act like this, but Ralph had had the impression that the bastard had somewhat matured, given his latest achievements and general behaviour. It seemed he had been wrong.

The fair boy glowered and muttered a few foul words that he wouldn't have normally even thought of, then rushed to the front of the church to meet up with his father and friends. He knew he would be assaulted with questions once they caught sight of his deplorable state. As his mind forged all possible variations of several lies, he was unaware of the hard gaze that followed him.

Across the street, a redheaded young man sulked, his mouth turning into a thin line on his colourless face as he silently watched the other boy for a while. He then shoved his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and turned to distance himself from that place as quickly as he could.


End file.
